The Jewel of Dol Amroth
by EruntaleofRohan
Summary: Lothíriel of Dol Amroth must decide between her duty with her country or the love of a man. Eomer of the Mark has to decide between choosing an unreachable woman as his queen or taking as a wife a lady of his people.
1. A King's first night in Edoras

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This is the revised version of "Always a Woman", now titled "The Jewel of Dol Amroth". I hope the story has more fluency and less grammar mistakes now. I must beg for your patient in these matters, for English is not my mother tongue. Now, I'll leave you with the story itself.

**THE JEWEL OF DOL AMROTH**

I

A KING'S FIRST NIGHT IN EDORAS

It was a very cold night. The darkness surrounded all of the land. Its presence couldn't be less appropriated, considering that that afternoon the late Théoden King had been buried, next to the grave of his ancestors, in the outskirts of Edoras.

Many people of all Middle Earth had come to pay him a last visit. There were Elves from the Golden Wood and Rivendell, Princes and noblemen from Gondor, Dunedain Rangers from the North, and those brave little hobbits from the Shire, who had helped to defeat the Dark Lord Sauron, the most terrible threat Middle Earth had ever faced since the Dark Enemy of the World had been defeated by the Valar.

And there were also the Marshalls and the fearless Riders of the Mark, those who had come to the aid of Gondor and gave hope to humanity by riding against the armies of the Dark Lord, precisely commanded by him who rested now in a grave. And with them, the entire people from Edoras.

Between those who mourned the late king was a young man, of wheat-colored hair, as any son of Eorl, and piercing grey eyes. His name was Eomer, Eomund' Son. Along with his sister Eowyn, they had planned to offer an evening feast for all their guests. Busy in the preparations, he had not taken time to think what was going to become of him, and of the Mark. For he had been called King by his uncle Théoden when the elder man was laying in the Pelennor Fields, shortly before of exhaling his last breath.

Now he had the time.

* * *

He could see all of Edoras through the large window of his office. If anyone would have entered at that very moment, they would have noticed that his eyes were very bright and even swollen. Like they were about to break in tears. 

One time. He had cried only one time in his life, when he had been told his father had been attacked by Orcs and died shortly. After the death of his mother, however, he didn't allow himself to shed a tear, for the piercing screams and sobs from Eowyn were more that enough. Someone needed to calm her, and he had to be the one. He was always the one to whom Eowyn went when she felt scared or sad. But after he was made Third Marshall, the siblings often saw each other from time to time, and Eomer sometimes felt guilty for not being there whenever the Worm harassed his sister, for not wiping out her tears when Théoden began to lose his mind and there was nothing that could be done to help it.

And now he wanted to cry, for the man that he had loved as a father had been robbed from him, and to make matters worse, had imposed into Eomer's shoulders a task that was not meant to him: the throne of Eorl and the destiny of an entire land.

There was regret in his thoughts, right now. Eomer regretted with all his forces those moments in the Golden Hall, waiting impatiently for the time to go out and play with other children, instead of listening to his tutor and his tales of the seven stars and the seven stones and a white tree, or the last battle between Elves, Men and the Dark Lord… well, he had to admit he did like that tale. But he did not like the Elvish lessons, or the reasons their uncle gave to Eowyn and him. It was something about being them descendants of Queen Morwen, a Gondorian lady who had his husband, King Thengel, that their descendants would learn at least something concerning their Numenorean heritage. The child Eomer came to loath her memory, being it the cause for not going out to play in the afternoon. He had even promised that he would never take a Gondorian lady as a wife, to avoid his children taking such boring lessons. Eomer laughed softly at that memory, he could not have imagined that some years later, one of his best friends would be the very King of Gondor, not to mention the elven lady Arwen, his friend's wife!

He was a soldier and a leader of men. Not a farmer, not a herder. Not a scholar, either. Perhaps he wasn't fit to be a King. How could he rule the Mark, for Bema's sake! If only he had paid any attention to his lessons… Eowyn did, sometimes. Now, Eowyn was betrothed to Faramir, the Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien, they would marry in a couple of months and she would be taken away from him, just like his father, his mother, his cousin and his uncle…

Someone came, suddenly; a soft knock on the door made him turn around.

"My king?" said a voice.

"You may enter" replied him, a little annoyed for his private thoughts having been disturbed.

It was a young boy who entered.

"Lady Eowyn asks you to come to the Golden Hall. The feast for the guests is about to start".

"I will go when I feel like going" answered Eomer, now getting more irritated. "Tell her so".

"Eomer!" A female voice said suddenly. "I heard you! Why are you saying this?"

As Eowyn spoke, she entered the fire lit room. She was dressed in green, the color of the Eorlingas, and a circlet surrounded her golden hair. Eomer approached to her, taking one of her hands. She deserved to know the feelings of his heart.

"You are leaving too…" he sighed.

"Well, I'll be coming whenever I can, you silly" she said, laughing a little. She understood what he felt, though. After the death of their parents, they had been always so close, always taking care of each other.

However, they had to move on, as the feast was about to begin. She took his other hand and leaded him to the door.

"Take your time, my dear brother. Dress appropriately and come as soon as you can". And she smiled to him again. "We Eorlingas need our king".

* * *

When he entered the Golden Hall, all clad in green and gold, he was thankful that in Rohan there were no heralds to announce his presence whenever he went, like the custom he had observed in Gondor. He knew that because of that custom Aragorn was secretly embarrassed to walk around Minas Tirith at daylight. 

But, instead of a herald, Prince Imrahil appeared. They had befriended in the days following the finding of Eowyn in the Pelennor Fields. He brought to his mind all the vague memories he had from his father, the courage and love for his family, except from the Prince's raven hair and sea-green eyes. His eldest son, Elphir, looked very much the same. It wouldn't be a wonder if the three youngest, whom the Prince spoke so much of, had the same features.

He had never cared so much about people. Why now?

"A pleasure to see you always, friend. We thought that you were hiding" said Prince Imrahil, a light smile on his face.

"I wasn't. I just needed some time to think" answered Eomer. Then he gathered some courage to say aloud what he had been saying to himself during the burial. "Will I be a good king?"

"That, my friend, I don't know" said simply the Prince. "All I can tell you is that your love for your country will lead you in the right direction. When I assumed the rule of Dol Amroth I…" He suddenly looked behind him, and Eomer followed his gaze. He saw two people in the shadows, Eowyn talking to a woman he didn't know. Perhaps she was a new maid, or a friend of Eowyn's.

"Eomer, I would like to discuss with you about your new role as a ruler of Rohan but I fear that a pressing business is calling my attention. Would you excuse me? I will return in an hour".

"There is no problem, my friend" he replied.

Soon after the Prince left, two of his friends approached. Those two… this was going to be an interesting night, indeed. A night for mourning, but also to rejoice for the victory achieved thanks to the sacrifice of the mourned.

"Playing hide and seek, laddie?" said the dwarf

"He is reflective today" the elf stated. And looking at Eomer, added. "Fear not, because the blood of Eorl flows deep in you. And we, your friends, will be there whenever you need of us".

"Thanks, Legolas" said Eomer. "To think that I almost kill you that day at the plains…"

The elf smiled softly.

"This is your first night as a King in Edoras, and you should enjoy it" stated Legolas.

"All you need is to find a girl" Gimli said, while drinking his ale. "A fine girl. I would introduce you to some friends of mine, but I don't think you are into dwarf women…"

The three laughed soundly.

"And what about you, Gimli?" asked the man.

"There is a fine girl already for me, lad. She's waiting in a vast hall in the heart of the Lonely Mountain. And she'll be glad when I come home" replied the dwarf, before drinking more ale.

* * *

Before he knew it, Prince Imrahil was at his side, again. 

"I suppose your business is over" Eomer said.

"Yes, yes" the Prince agreed. "Over at last." The questioning look in Eomer's face made him say "I will tell you soon about it, my friend. Very soon, in fact". And he sighed. "Well, what I was saying? Oh, yes. When I assumed the rule of Dol Amroth I…"

And the night went on and on, and Eomer thought that, after all, he was not alone. In that room, the guests were not only foreigners from very distant lands and races, but friends that would be always ready to give him some advice. Eomer King, right? It did not sound that bad. He somehow felt like a child again, expecting his coronation day…

"I will not fail you, Theodred, uncle", he thought. "I will be the king you both would have wanted me to be".


	2. The acceptance of a King

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I'm continuing the revised version of my story. I hope it's of your liking. Review please!

**THE JEWEL OF DOL AMROTH**

II

THE ACCEPTANCE OF A KING

Many days had passed since his coronation, and Eomer still felt like he was having a bad dream and was going to wake up in any second. The fields had never looked so tempting and the horses had never been so willing to be ridden, while the counselors tormented him in those never ending meetings. Besides, all of his friends had returned to their homes. His only relief was that Eowyn's wedding day was nearer and, at least for that day, he would be rid of his kingly duties.

Even thought the long meetings and even long speeches, there were some positive things about being a king. All those beautiful ladies from every corner of the Riddermark giggling and whispering wherever he went… how he wished he had had that kind of attention when he was just a soldier! Now there was another thing that annoyed him. The counselors always spoke that he was expected to produce an heir. Didn't they know that, to produce an heir, not only a man was needed, but also a woman? He had told them that, with anger in his voice, and one of them had suggested he needed to find a queen immediately.

Bema, was Minas Tirith that far?

* * *

Simple and beautiful. That is the way that Eomer felt about her sister's wedding ceremony. And, he thought, that is the way he wanted his wedding ceremony to be.

He never cared for weddings or things of that sort. They were not a soldier's concern, unless the soldier in mention was directly involved in the wedding. But the ceremony itself was not important, only the celebration and the ale – oh, yes, the ale. Why now?

He danced a lot that night. In fact, he had never danced before with other women than his sister. He did dance with her, and enjoyed seeing her dance with her husband, the flame of love flickering in their eyes. He danced with Queen Arwen, who had a soothing smile that made his fears go away. He danced with many ladies of the courts of Rohan and Gondor. And when he thought he had danced enough, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Having fun, my friend?" said Elphir, laughing.

"Yes…" Eomer sighed. "I'm tired of having fun, in fact". Both men laughed.

"May I introduce you to someone?" Before Eomer said something, the Amrothian turned around. "Lothi! She is my sister, Lothiriel" added quickly.

A young woman came to them. She looked very young, in fact. Eomer was amazed. He had been right; she was extremely alike to her father and her brother, the same raven hair and sea-green eyes.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Eomer King" she said, making a curtsey.

"The pleasure is all mine, Princess Lothiriel" he answered, kissing swiftly her hand.

Trying to be polite, he offered:

"Would you care to dance, Princess?

"Heavens, no" Elphir replied. "She is exhausted and has asked me to escort her to her room". She looked tired, indeed, and even stifled a yawn.

"I'm sure there will be plenty of times to share a dance with you, my lord". She laughed softly. "Please, forgive my weariness".

"Do not mind, my lady" Eomer replied. "Sleep well". And brother and sister left him.

Bema, they were so alike!

* * *

The day that Eomer was about to leave Minas Tirith, Prince Imrahil came to him. He looked somewhat worried.

"I hope everything goes well in Rohan. Have patience, my friend, and everything will go as well as you expect".

"Thank you" he answered. "I'm looking forward to return to my duties… although I don't know if I can endure the long meetings… and I still have some doubts about how to take care of my people".

The Prince laughed.

"I don't have all the answers to your doubts, but I'm glad that I know someone that might have them. My finest advisor desires to know your country and your customs. In fact, she longs to do so since she was a child".

"Your finest advisor is a woman?" Eomer asked, perplexed.

"My finest advisor is my daughter Lothiriel" Imrahil answered proudly. "She has been educated in history and politics ever since she learned how to read. It has been my fault, actually. Her mother died when she but a babe, and she has been raised between books and swords. She prefers the books, actually. I remember that one day she…"

The Prince was very talkative when he talked about himself or his family, Eomer noted.

"…And anyways…" he kept saying. "I consider you, Eomer, a fine young man worth of admiration and esteem, and also I am aware of the love you feel for your sister".

His voice became suddenly low.

"The most beautiful jewel of Dol Amroth, as far as I know, is my daughter. She has this hunger for knowledge that I do not fully understand, but I let her do as she pleases, trying always to keep her away from trouble. Let her go to Rohan. I assure she will take care of herself. Will you do me that honor, Eomer King?"

"It is my honor, Prince Imrahil, to accept to be the keeper of such jewel" he replied, moved. "I will see that no harm comes to her".

And so, the king of the Mark departed with his court, and with them went Lothiriel, princess of Dol Amroth and the jewel of her people.


	3. The finest advisor

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

It's me again. This chapter is going to be almost entirely remade. By the way, I don't own any of these characters, only the original ones. Read and review!

**THE JEWEL OF DOL AMROTH**

III

THE FINEST ADVISOR

Before he left to Edoras, Eomer wanted to talk with Eowyn. He had agreed with the Princess of Dol Amroth, whose name he didn't remember by the way, coming to Rohan, and Imrahil had assured him she was a responsible young woman and she was going to look after her most of the time. However, he felt that perhaps his sister could tell him more about the Princess, in order to make her trip more enjoyable.

He found her in her bedroom, embroidering, or making an attempt to embroider some sheets.

"Morning, brother", she said to him. "Faramir went outside with some of the Ithilien Rangers, and he will come back in some hours. I heard something about them giving him a present or something".

Eomer laughed. He had heard indeed of some bet that his now brother-in-law had made with his men. Of what nature, he didn't know. So he went straight to the point.

"I suppose you know about the arrangement that the Prince Imrahil and I have concerning his daughter?"

A smile brightened up her face and she pushed aside the sheets.

"Really? Did you say yes?" and she suddenly embraced him. "I knew it! I'm so happy that finally Lothi is going to travel to Rohan!" Her face looked radiant, like she were talking about a childhood friend and not about a lady that she had meet just a few months ago. Eomer was puzzled.

"So you know her well, I assume".

"Of course I do!" Eowyn said. "She has been to me like a sister since I first met her. I met her in the Houses of Healing, where she was helping the healers. Lothi was often by my side, taking care of my wounds… then we became friends". He looked even more puzzled. The Princess was a dear friend of Eowyn? How had he never noticed that? Where was his mind at? Bema, he had been so worried about himself that he had paid little attention to the whereabouts of his sister. She could have befriended a murderer and he would have not noticed that. Well, that was a little exaggerated but anyway, this was unacceptable.

"Do not tell me that you didn't know her before yesterday!" she said, with a deadly voice.

"I didn't", replied Eomer, somewhat scared.

"WHAT!" Eowyn yelled. Then she regained her composure. "What is the matter with you, Eomer? Have you not noticed that you are a king? Our King! Where are your manners? Princess Lothiriel is the daughter of your friend, maybe she doesn't look like your lady friends…"

That made Eomer blush a little.

"…But she is from the finest sort of lady that has ever walked this Middle Earth. She was there the day of your coronation. But no, you are so self-centered that only greeted those who approached to you. Not even a kind word to all those ladies and gentlemen that went to Edoras not by imposition, but because they cared for our uncle. I should have told you before, but I had other things in mind. But enough is enough, and you will promise me you will see that your guest, being the wonderful person she is, is well greeted and treated. Won't you, Eomer King?"

"I will, dear sister", said Eomer. Never in his life had been so embarrassed. Anyway, Eowyn was right.

"Start behaving like a King, brother. Leave the soldier behind. Try to be kind and gentle. And remember, she has all the will to help you to be a better ruler. Let her be."

* * *

The journey to Edoras was really short. The Princess traveled in her own horse, an Amrothian brown mare. Sometimes Eomer would approach to her but he didn't know what to say, except commenting about the weather. However, as they went closer to Rohan, he dared to ask her some questions.

"How are you feeling today, my lady?" he said, trying to be polite.

"I'm feeling great, thanks for your concern" she replied, and smiling, added, "This is a dream, I never thought I was going to make it."

"Make what, my lady?"

"Come to Rohan. I've always liked everything about your country, my lord. My father always said that, as we didn't have any relatives in Rohan, it would not be very safe if I traveled on my own. Visiting Rohan has been my dream for many, many years." And her eyes surveyed the horizon, as if looking for something or someone.

Eomer, who thought that everyone that liked his country was a nice person, became interested by the lady.

"There are many things you can do in Rohan, my lady. Ride across our plains, bathe in the cool water of the rivers, watch the sun set on the wheat fields…"

"… While reading a book of lore", added dreamily his companion. "I'd like to ride, too. This sweetie can hold herself against any horse of the Mark."

"Truly, my lady?" said Eomer, amused. "Are you challenging my horse for a race? This is Firefoot, son of the Mearas, the greatest horses that have ever existed. Would your mare be a match for him?"

The Princess laughed softly.

"Well, I can't promise anything, but we can find it out, my lord".

And they both continued the journey, talking from time to time, until finally being welcomed by the sight of Meduseld.

* * *

They were welcomed by a feast. The Eorlingas were very pleased that his king had returned. Eomer presented Lothiriel to them, and everybody in the Hall celebrated her visit. She looked surprised when she received a welcome gift, a golden pendant with a horse and a sun that Eomer, thanks to Eowyn's advice, had ordered to be prepared while they traveled to Edoras.

"The horse and the sun are symbols of our land, Princess. May you carry them as a token of our gratitude, for gracing our Hall with your presence" Eomer said, while a maid helped Lothiriel putting on the pendant.

"I have no token for you, Eomer King, at least for now" was her answer. "But it is I who must thank your gratitude for saving my people when the evil hour had arrived for us".

"Let us speak no more of those days, my lady, and enjoy the feast" Eomer replied. And she smiled him back.

After two hours or more, the lady declared she was exhausted and asked permission to leave the Hall. Eomer gave it to her, but before he needed to ask her some questions. So he escorted her to her room.

"Is your room of your liking, Princess? Is anything else we can do for you? Our Chief Housekeeper, mistress Hild, is ready to help you whenever you need it."

She looked at him, and for the first time since he met her, he noticed that there was something elven about her, something that he had only felt with Queen Arwen or Legolas. It couldn't be described, but it was a feeling, nevertheless.

"My room is so beautiful, my lord, and I love every detail of it. My thanks go to the maids that arranged it. And yes, I would like something else. I would like to have a maid at my service, but mostly for my company. Sometimes we women feel a little lonely and, as much as I love being here, I will miss my sister-in-law and Eowyn too."

At the mention of Eowyn's name, Eomer felt a little embarrassed.

"Actually, I did not have a clue of how fond of you Eowyn was. I'm deeply sorry for that."

"Oh, my lord, you mustn't worry…" she answered hastily.

Eomer remembered suddenly the other purpose of the lady's journey to Edoras.

"Princess, may I have a meeting with you tomorrow in the morning? Concerning the current affairs of state in the Mark…"

"Oh." She fixed her eyes on his for a moment. He felt somewhat dizzy. "It would be best if you said "First thing in the morning", my lord. From what my father has told me, right know you don't have much support from your advisors and neither from the lord of the Mark, and we need to plan a strategy to gain their trust. But first I need to gain yours. First thing in the morning, then?"

"First thing in the morning, my lady".

Eomer sighed as he went down to the Hall. No more ale, then, and to bed early.

Finest advisor, indeed.

* * *

It was not dawn yet, and Eomer was sleeping soundly. He was awoken then by a knock on the door.

"First thing in the morning, my lord", a female voice said. He dressed up quickly and found the Princess right in front of his door.

"This way" he said, leading her to his office.

It was a small room, with a big table, a desk and a chair, nothing fancy. And with the large window where all Edoras could be seen.

"What are the topics of today, my lord" asked Lothiriel.

"Aldburg", Eomer replied, scratching his head. "It was devastated in the war. Besides that, while we were in the Pelennor, most of the crops were frozen and people were starving to death. When I was Third Marshall in there, we fought the orcs bravely and they loathed us for that. Now they are getting their revenge."

"So the city will endure these attacks as long as the raiding orcs continue alive."

"Right you are, my lady."

Lothiriel looked him to the eyes. Perhaps that was her way of doing politics.

"The city must be rebuilt in a way that it remains defended for a long time. Back in Dol Amroth we had a similar problem with the Corsairs. There must be something that we can modify and apply to this case."

Eomer noticed that she carried a leather bag with her. She took a brown little book and some big parchments from the bag.

"Ask the servants to bring breakfast to your office, my lord. We have much work to do" said her.

They spent the morning looking to the parchments, sketches of the distribution of a small village near Dol Amroth, which was fortified to endure the attacks of the corsairs. The Princess came up with a short speech that explained the plan to rebuild Aldburg, to be presented by Eomer in the meeting of the day. They had lunch together in the Golden Hall, rehearsing the speech. Lothiriel instructed him to sound convinced of what he spoke, to look the audience into the eye, to focus on the main point of the topic.

After the meeting ended, the king felt relieved. The plan was approved and he had been complimented by many lords. Even the lord of Aldburg, who didn't have a good relationship with Eomer due to some unfortunate incidents when Eomer was Marshall (a confuse incident involving the lord's daughter), told him that he was better than his late cousin in giving speeches. The Princess looked radiant, too. She had heard already about the first political victory of Eomer.

"I'm truly thankful, Princess Lothiriel. How can I ever repay you?" he said to her.

"Well, my lord, I would like to ride around the city. I promise I'll be coming before dusk."

Lothiriel went out that afternoon, escorted by a guard, and came back as she promised.

* * *

It had passed a week since Lothiriel arrived to Edoras, and Eomer felt already that she was indispensable in his daily duties. They spent the morning, lunched together, and then she had all the afternoon to herself.

Eomer tried always to stay informed about the whereabouts of the Princess, not only to keep her safe, but to learn more about this interesting lady. He knew that she was highly educated for a woman; spoke as languages as Aragorn did (Sindarin, some Quenya, Adunaic, some Haradric dialects, some Rohirric, apart from Westron); loved to read and ride Falma, her brown mare. She did some sewing and embroidery with Ceolwyn, her maid. And yes, she was an astute politician and the most sincere and loyal advisor that a king could have.

The Princess liked to walk around Edoras, often with Ceolwyn, with whom she became very good friends. Whenever she went out, she was escorted. It seemed to him that she was happy.

The tales about her were another story. It seemed that everyone in Edoras had met the Princess Lothiriel and had amazing stories to tell about her kindness, her sense of humor, and her hunger for knowledge.

Take for example the incident of the Library of Edoras. The king was in his office, signing some important papers, when the Chief Librarian came. Actually, the Chief Librarian was the only librarian in all Rohan, and even the Library of Edoras was really small and was more a collection of dusted parchments that a library itself. The Chief Librarian was very impressed at the knowledge of the Princess.

"She has even requested me to help her improve her Rohirrim, and it almost brings me to tears", the old man was saying. "With some of my assistants, she is putting some order in the piles of parchments, and the most amazing thing is that, when I ask her why is she helping us, she says that libraries are like home to her. It is most unbelievable to find a woman like that, my king".

"Her father told me that", Eomer answered. "About her hunger of knowledge. Let she do as she pleases. As long as she doesn´t bother anyone."

Mistress Annis, one of the housekeepers, told him that one day, the Princess had found a little girl sitting near the stable, tears in her little face. Lothiriel had not stopped until she delivered her to the arms of her mother. That day, she had come very late, Eomer had been very concerned and demanded to know where had she been and, as she didn't say anything, he felt she was being rude. Next morning, mistress Annis spoke to him and the incident was forgotten.

Ceolwyn told him something interesting and quite strange too. Lothiriel carried wherever she went a small notebook in her pocket, where she wrote all the ideas that came to her mind. She also told him that she liked to write poetry, although she was not a good singer. And some of the guards also added that the Princess had become quite famous not only in Edoras but in all the Mark, always talking to everyone and giving advice when asked. In fact, many people didn't know she was a Princess, and simply thought her a noble lady from Gondor.

Eomer had already written to Imrahil telling him about his daughter and the improvements in his government. He didn't know how long she would stay in Edoras, thought. He found himself wishing she didn't left before he got to know more of this fascinating lady.


	4. An unexpected discovery

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Here I go with the fourth chapter. Hope you like it. We get to know more of their growing relationship.

Read and review please!

**THE JEWEL OF DOL AMROTH**

IV

AN UNEXPECTED DISCOVERY

Everything that has a beginning has an end, and Lothiriel's trip to Rohan was no exception. Four weeks after her arrival to Edoras, Eomer received a letter from Prince Imrahil, asking him permission for his daughter to leave the country, due to some "private matters" the Prince needed to discuss with her. Eomer made no objections and ordered a feast to be held in honor of the Princess, before she left.

He had to admit of him being fond of the Princess's company. If fact, these days, an idea had come to his mind. He didn't know her very well; their daily conversations were centered in politics, differences between Rohan and Dol Amroth, the weather, and stop counting. And, surprisingly, he decided that he wanted to know the woman behind the lady, or at least have a glimpse of her. Why? He didn't know.

* * *

It had been a long, busy day. First, a plan to enforce the safety of Edoras, which thanks to the good advice of the Princess, had been well received by the members of the government council. Then, he had to approve some new laws and decrees. Lunch came after, with Gamling and Eothain, since the Princess had requested to go somewhere into the city. She was probably living up to her fame, thought Eomer. "Let her be", Eowyn had said and he had a promise to fulfill.

The Marshals left and he was alone, again, in the Golden Hall. Alone, with nothing to do, since there was not any meeting the next day, and any plans to prepare or speech to rehearse. A sudden desire of going to the Barrowfield took him, perhaps moved by the memory of his uncle, or the less frequent, but still present headaches he got every time he met his advisors.

Théoden's grave was covered in simbelmynë, as he remembered it. However, he saw something he did not remember in there. Was it a rock? No, it could not be. When he got close, he distinguished a hooded figure, seated in the grass, unaware of being watched.

As he went nearer, he noticed that the figure was speaking slowly, in Rohirric. He couldn't help feeling pride when the voice pronounced each word. Carefully, he managed to hide behind a tall bush and catch a glimpse of the face behind the grey hood.

It was Lothiriel.

A rush of blood came suddenly to Eomer's head. For the woman seated in the grass seemed very different from the Gondorian lady he had welcomed into the Golden Hall a month ago. Her gaze always fixed in that ubiquitous little brown notebook, she looked so pale, almost transparent. Even so, he could tell she was excited, by the way her cheeks flushed now and then, as she read every sentence. Some strands of her raven hair fell softly over her forehead, but they couldn't stop her from being concentrated. So concentrated, in fact, that for a moment Eomer thought that she was conjuring some sort of spell.

He reminded himself that she was only reading the song of Eorl. And he also reminded himself that he had never noticed that the Princess of Dol Amroth was a beautiful woman. Graceful, smart, elegant, elven-like, but not beautiful.

Somehow, he must have made some kind of noise, because the next thing he saw was a quite surprised pair of green eyes staring at him.

"_Mae govannen_, my lord. I did not expect finding you in here…" she said as she got up and hurried to do a curtsey, her face now flushed with embarrassment.

"Well met, lady Princess", he replied. Still not recovered from his discovery, Eomer told her "I did not expect coming here, myself. An impulse took me and here I am. It is been a while since I visited the resting place of my forefathers."

She must have felt confident, because her face looked less pink than some minutes before.

"I come here, from time to time, to practice my Rohirric. I suppose I'm not causing trouble in coming here…"

"You are most welcome in this place and in all of Rohan" Eomer assured her, sitting and gesturing her to sit again. "I am most sure that my forefathers are more than pleased to hear a young female voice learning our beloved language… as I am".

Lothíriel blushed again and now Eomer felt uncomfortable. He was fully aware that this was their first non-political conversation ever since the Princess arrived to Edoras. They were talking not as a king and his advisor, but as a man and a woman. And unfortunately, he found he did not know what to say.

She knew, however.

"I remember you said something abut racing across the fields, my lord. Perhaps you have forgotten…"

"Oh, yes, my lady, now I remember" Eomer answered. Silently he thanked Lothíriel for this new topic of conversation. "You said that your Falma can hold herself against any horse of the Mark".

"Including your Firefoot" she said with a grin.

Eomer stifled a laugh. "Are you sure, lady Lothíriel? For my Firefoot is a war horse and more powerful that many horses in this land. I do not want to sound offensive but…"

"Yes, I know what you are trying to say…" Her smile was so delightful that Eomer almost failed to listen to her words. "I suppose I forgot to tell you she is only deadly at short distances".

"Much like some Dwarf we know" Eomer murmured. That made Lothíriel laugh quietly, and he laughed as well.

New topics arose every minute. He told her about his childhood adventures with Eowyn, when they used to escape from their lessons and came to play in the forest, and almost always Theodred and his eored found them and took them back to the castle, and then they would come up with some hilarious "revenge". Lothiriel laughed harder with this. In return, she told him some mischiefs she and her favorite brother, Amrothos, had plotted, always concerning their older brother.

"It seems, my lady, that we have played the same games in our childhood" Eomer stated, as they both laughed.

"I would pay to see Elphir the same way you left Theodred that day!" she answered. His face became stern for a while, remembering his late cousin, but he went on telling her some more adventures.

They continued talking until the sun began to hide after the hills. Her laughter was like the sound of ringing pearls. Now wait a second, he thought. What is going on in here? Why is his heart beating so fast, his tongue willing to speak more so she may laugh again and again and again…?

"It is getting darker. We should return" she noticed.

They returned, as the last rays of the sun covered the mountains. and Eomer gave her his cloak in order to protect her of the cool wind. Back in Meduseld, he still felt that the Hall was windy, and his heart had an empty space.

* * *

The next day, the feast in honor of Lothiriel was held. Some hours before, the servants were running to and fro, managing to get everything that was needed for the feast. Hild, as Chief Housekeeper, was the one in charge of the preparations. She seemed distracted and even annoyed while she gave orders.

She was giving some instructions to a girl when Eothain, her husband, appeared. Appointed Second Marshall of the Mark by the king, he didn't see his wife very much as he was always traveling. But, instead of being cheerful for his coming, Hild greeting him coldly.

"Don't you think I haven't seen you", she said.

"I don't understand you, my darling" he replied, taking off his coat. "Come, give me a hug". But she refused.

"I've seen you, Eothain of Aldburg, the way you look at that girl" Hild said, angrily. "And the way you talk to her. And the way she talks to you. I'm not deaf!"

Eothain looked puzzled.

"What girl, my dear?" was all that he could say. Hild started sobbing hysterically:

"That girl, that one! The King ought to know about this! I will tell him myself!"

"Tell me what?"

Eomer was standing there ever since he heard some loud noises.

"Mistress Annis" he said to one of the women "take mistress Hild to the healer's room and make sure she feels calm. Eothain, I want a word with you. In my study".

When they arrived to the study, Eothain was almost in tears.

"I've never, ever been untruthful to her, Eomer" he said. "You know me…"

"I know you, my friend", Eomer answered, "yet I still don't know how come your wife has made such an accusation. Now, let me ask you, who is this girl?"

"That, I don't know. All I can tell you is that you must trust me, Eomer".

"I trust you. Now, please, sit down and tell me."

One day, while he was returning home, Eothain thought that his wife would like some treats, and he went to the market to buy some cakes and sweets. As he walked, he felt a soft tap on his shoulders.

"Excuse me, sir", said a hooded woman. "I know that you are a close friend of the king, and I would like your help."

"I could help you, my lady", he replied, "but I can't talk to a hood", added, smiling to himself. Then the hood disappeared, and instead he saw the Princess of Dol Amroth.

He bowed deeply.

"Lord Eothain, I must trust you a secret, and I hope you can handle it well" she said. "It is my wish to prepare some robes for the king, as a gift, before I return to my homeland. So, as I'm not that familiar with the customs of the Rohirrim, I would like you to help me to design them. Can you do it, my lord?"

"I will do whatever I can to help you, my lady, and to honor my king", he answered.

"I spent that day with her, choosing fabrics and telling her about some facts of history. She was particularly interested in our emblems. I don't know if she ever made those robes but… I imagine that Hild saw that and…" Eothain seemed more depressed.

"It is alright, friend" Eomer laughed. "I would have done the same in her instead. Being young and pretty sometimes makes people suspicious. And being foreign makes it even worse. It is my fault, mostly, for haven't prevented her. But I appreciate her "secret". And I'll make sure that tonight Hild would have understood and forgiven you."

* * *

The feast was magnificent, and all the attendants were happy. There were plenty of food and plenty of ale, the music was excellent, and Eomer was pleased. And the Princess seemed pleased, too. Here and there, people were holding toasts. However, the moment in which Gamling cleared his throat, the entire hall was filled with silence.

"Blessed be thee, King of the Eorlingas", he shouted. "Hail, Eomer Eadig!"

"Hail!" roared the entire crowd.

Never in his life, had Eomer been so cheered like that.

"It seems that you are being a good king, after all" said a soft voice. It was Lothiriel. She was wearing a light blue dress, and her wavy hair was loose and fell like dark cascades over her shoulders.

"It is you who I must thank for the service you have done to me and my country, Princess" Eomer answered. "I asked you once how I could repay you. I'm afraid I must repeat it again".

"You have repaid me enough, my lord. In this month I have walked all through Edoras, met your people, admired your land, learnt your language and even" and in her cheeks was a touch of pink "contemplated a sunset in some entertaining company. There is no more than I can ask, only permission to visit Rohan again, if I can".

"There is nothing I could do to forbid you the entrance to the Riddermark, my lady. You have won that permission all by yourself."

She smiled at his words.

A servant came, bringing some glasses with wine. Eomer took two glasses and handed one to the Princess. As they drank, he noticed that she was trembling.

"Are you cold, my lady? I can ask for a cloak if you need one…"

"Nay, my lord. Perhaps I'm a little anxious to travel back to Dol Amroth. But right now I'd wish to speak to you about some matters".

Eomer noticed then that Ceolwyn, the maid, was right behind them, carrying a package.

Lothíriel took it and gave it to Eomer.

"For you, my lord", she said. "Ceolwyn and I have prepared it and hope it would be of your linking."

Eomer opened the package and found some green robes. The fabric was the softest he had ever touched, of the finest velvet that has ever been found in the Mark. The delicate golden embroidery seemed waved by the Elves themselves, and he couldn't help but staring at the lady's hands, those hands that had sewn the clothes he was holding. He was touched by this gift of a woman who, being herself royalty, didn't mind to sew for a man she barely knew.

Giving the package to a servant, Eomer looked to his companion.

"Would you accompany me, Princess?" Eomer said. "I need some fresh air".

He led her to a small garden. The moon shone proud across the dark sky. Proud and wise, like her eyes. Almost elven.

"Before you leave, there is something you must know. There has been a misunderstanding between lord Eothain and his wife. She thought that he and you were… flirting".

Lothiriel laughed mockingly. Then, as if remembering with whom she was speaking, she was silent again.

"Flirting? And what is you opinion in the matter, my lord king?"

"I have already talked to Eothain, and he has told me about the market and your "secret"" Eomer stated.

She laughed softly.

"And I suppose now you and Eothain's wife have to work out this misunderstanding."

"That I will, my lord" she said. "It is my fault, perhaps, for being too friendly with people. It will not happen again, I promise".

He nodded, as an answer.

Eomer felt he had to thank her for the gift but she interrupted his thoughts.

"Perhaps you are wondering why I bothered myself to sew you some robes, including a misunderstanding with some wife" Lothíriel said. He looked at her.

"I saw you there, in the House of Healing. In those days I was helping the healers. You used to sing to Eowyn, before she recovered from the Black Breath. I was deeply moved by your love for your sister, and I promised myself that, if we ever met again, I would do whatever I could to help you, for it seemed to me you were a good man".

Perhaps that was the best compliment he had ever been given in his entire life.

"You are truly the jewel of you people, Lothiriel of Dol Amroth".

"Nay", she said, "I seem to be witty now and then, but I have my silly times too."

"Now that I know you better" Eomer answered "I can say you are more witty than silly".

They both smiled and went back to the hall.


	5. A burden not meant for her

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

As you see, every writer envisions Lothíriel in a different way. She has been so far an average princess, a not so beautiful princess, a warrior, a healer (read the fantastic story of "The Healer and the Warrior" and its sequels) … I wanted to write something different. At first she was a librarian, but I thought better and suddenly I came up with this plot… I hope it is not too off canon…

This is a short chapter but keep reading and review please!

**THE JEWEL OF DOL AMROTH**

V

A BURDEN NOT MEANT FOR HER

She woke up, as every day, to the sound of the gulls flying near the shore. Her bedroom was now full of the salty essence of the sea, but also of the smell of fried fish. She could never understand why the windows of her bedroom were so close to those of the kitchen. Anyway, the smell meant that the breakfast was almost ready, and she was late again! Lothíriel had always been an early bird, until she came back from Edoras.

Many things, in fact, had changed since she had returned from Edoras.

His father, prince Imrahil, had told her she needed to rest from her trip to Rohan, and released her from her political duties. Now she would spend her days working in her little garden, and accompanying her sister-in-law and her nephew. His brother Elphir had married Gwenel, the daughter of an admiral from Pelargir, and their son was the vivacious two-year-old Alphros. Lothíriel considered Gwenel her sister and hoped that she and Eowyn could achieve that level of friendship, with time.

She dressed with a grey dress, with which his father always said she looked like a "lovely peasant", and hurried to the dining room.

* * *

"Morning, sleeping beauty", Amrothos said.

Amrothos was her favorite brother, the one who made her laugh, and the one who shared with her his adventures across the bay of Belfalas. There was also Erchirion, the second eldest, who shared with Faramir his passion for reading, and also his devotion for the defense of Gondor. And Elphir, the eldest, the fierce and brave warrior, whom many said he resembled Örome when he fought in battle.

For many reasons, prince Imrahil and his first-born were not in very good terms. The prince loved his son, but always disliked his lust for battle and his sometimes reckless actions when he led the soldiers. They were always respectful, but distanced. When the War of the Ring started, they forgot their issues and began to spend more time together. When Lothíriel arrived, however, she found out that they were more estranged than ever.

As it had become usual, Elphir and his father ate in silence, while the siblings chatted and Gwenel fed Alphros. However, Lothíriel had an odd feeling, as if something was going to happen. The feeling continued haunting her until it was midday and a maid asked her to go to her father's office.

Every step made Lothíriel dread what was going to happen.

* * *

The office looked exactly the same as it did those days when the siblings would meet with their father and decided the battle plans to face Sauron's army and hold it until the aid from Rohan came. Elphir and prince Imrahil were sitting, each with a stern face.

"I have come, Father, just as you asked".

"Sit, Lothíriel, for we must discuss your future" the prince said.

She froze, but obeyed. She was startled when she saw a tiny tear coming out from Elphir's blue eyes.

"Your brother and I are both concerned about the future of our land and about yours as well. Elphir, by his own will, has accepted that he is not well prepared nor is willing to assume the throne of Dol Amroth when my time has ended, and has asked me to resign his birthright and find a better suitor for the throne."

Lothíriel froze. She could not believe her ears. Elphir could not do that! He could not give in!

"Is this true, Elphir?" she asked, as quietly as possible, even thought her heart beating was like a Haradric drum.

"Aye, sister. There is not desire in me for occupy the throne, and I would like to see somebody more experienced, more knowledgeable in the matters of ruling a nation. I am a warrior and my expertise is in the battlefield, not in a palace".

She could not restrain herself any longer.

"Don't you remember Eomer, Elphir? He is a warrior, just like you, never meant to be a King! But he has assumed his position and he is putting all his effort in helping his people. Why are you so egotistical? You were raised to be a Prince!"

"Yet I don't want to be one" Elphir said.

"And what about King Elessar? For the Valar's sake, he was a Ranger! And…"

"Calm yourself, daughter", prince Imrahil told her, gently but commanding at the same time. "I taught you that when you are discussing state matters, you must remain as calm as possible and hide your true feelings. Please, do not make me believe you have forgotten that."

"No, my lord prince", she said, holding her tears.

"Now", the prince continued, "as I was saying, we are in need of finding another heir for the throne. And we think we have found the right one."

"Erchirion" said Lothíriel. "He is well educated and our people hold him in great respect."

"Nay, he is needed in Minas Tirith. Elessar is quite impressed with his skills, and has asked him to command the Guard of the City." Elphir said.

"Then Amrothos. He is loyal, and not as reckless as you may think. He will make an excellent Ruling Prince."

"Nay, Lothíriel. He is one of our best captains, except for your brother" and the prince smiled weakly as he said it.

She tried to think harder…

"Faramir? Would you make him Ruling Prince of Dol Amroth?"

"We would rather have a Ruling _Princess_ of Dol Amroth" Elphir said. "There is no other person prepared for the throne than you, Lothíriel".

She felt like reality had slapped her across the face. It hurt to know that she, Lothíriel of Dol Amroth, had taken from his brother his birthright of ruling their city, because of her stupid love for her books, her unfortunate political skills, and her knowledge of languages… Now she loathed every one of the talents she had always been complimented for. She loathed Elphir for loading in her shoulders a burden that was never meant to her. She loathed her father for always criticizing his son, but never giving him advice. What about her wishes? She would assume her duty, of course, but ruling would occupy all of her time, and perhaps she could not fulfill her dreams of returning to Rohan, visiting Rivendell or the Grey Havens…

The world was not going to be the same, after this day.

"Your announcement as Crown Princess will be held in a month…"

She could not hear anymore.

"Please, do not disturb me until that day, then". Lothíriel managed to say. "I will stay in my chambers". And she left the office.


	6. A new companion

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Awwww I'm so happy that you guys liked the last chapter… I hope I don't disappoint you with the next one…

**THE JEWEL OF DOL AMROTH**

VI

A NEW COMPANION

"Do not disturb me until that day. I will stay in my chambers".

She could not keep her promise. After some days of thinking, Lothíriel decided that being locked in her chambers was not an intelligent way of solving a problem. A good strategy and a smart management of circumstances would have better results. Fortunately for her, luck was on her side, as it was demonstrated by some happenings.

One of them was the coming of Ceolwyn to Dol Amroth. Rodwen, the elderly handmaid whom had raised Lothíriel and was loved by the Princess as a second mother, was very ill and prince Imrahil had released her from her duties. Therefore, Lothíriel wrote to mistress Hild, with whom she was in good terms now, to ask her to send Ceolwyn to Gondor, in order to become the Princess's new handmaid. The Rohirric girl was more than happy to reunite with her former lady, and soon became accustomed to her new home.

Lothíriel knew that the girl had lived in Meduseld since her childhood. First, helping her mother, one of the handmaids of Queen Elfhild; then, after the mother's death, serving in the Golden Hall. It was a strange coincidence, the princess thought, because her former maid was daughter to a queen's handmaiden, too. Good old Rodwen had been born in Edoras, where her mother was a handmaid of Morwen of Lossarnach, and her father, a Gondorian captain who followed King Thengel to Rohan after he inherited the throne. Her tales of the Riddermark had caused in Lothíriel a profound desire to know the golden plains of Rohan and the famous Riders, those who sang as they rode to battle in the vast fields of their land.

* * *

In a way, Lothíriel was happy, because she felt as if a part of her beloved Rohan was with her now, in the figure of her maid. That only thing made her smile, but when she remembered the moment when Elphir, Gwenel and little Alphros left the palace in order to travel to Lossarnach, tears came to her emerald eyes.

"Promise me you will be brave, Lothíriel", Elphir had told her. "You must do it, for me. I have no doubt you will make an excellent ruler".

"And I have no doubt you will return to take back what is yours" she said, looking him straight in the eye. "For some reason I feel this is not meant to be".

Elphir had caressed her cheek and kissed her hand.

"You were meant to rule a country, make no mistake about that".

And he left. He had been asked by the Prince of Lossarnach to train their new army. Gwenel had promised to write as much as she could.

* * *

A faint smell of baked bread filled the air. Having a window close to the kitchen has its advantages, she thought. Dinner was about to be ready! What dress would she wear for dining tonight?

"Ceolwyn, come quickly! The counselors have probably arrived by now!"

As a part of her plan, Lothíriel had convinced her father to abandon his idea of an official announcement or ceremony.

"You can be sure there will be plenty of people opposed to the idea of a woman being heiress of the throne" she told prince Imrahil. "It will be better if we keep it as private as possible, at least for some time."

Her father had no doubts about her diplomatic skills, so he accepted.

There was another reason for canceling the announcement, though. A Haradrim diplomat requested an audience with him concerning the hand of his daughter. Prince Imrahil refused, alleging Lothíriel was not of age, but he realized that Lothíriel would be later sought out more insistently because of her heiress status. He did not want that kind of pressure for her daughter.

To prove her theory of the people's opinion, Lothíriel invited the prince's counselors to dinner. When the prince, on purpose, "wondered" if his daughter could make a fine ruler, many of them were scandalized by the mere idea. Anyway, they had been always bothered by the figure of the young lady in the meetings and councils concerning matters of state. Therefore, the announcement was discarded.

* * *

As every afternoon, Lothíriel was heading to the library, where there was a pile of books awaiting her presence. Suddenly Ceolwyn appeared out of nowhere, with a letter in her hands.

"My lady, this letter from your cousin has just arrived".

Faramir! Her dear cousin had news for her! It seemed that life was not as sad as she thought it to be these days.

"Finally, someone to write to… Remember I promised Elphir not to write to him until he wrote to me?"

The maid nodded.

"I will read it tonight. Thank you."

She headed to the library again when she heard a discrete cough.

"Yes, Ceolwyn?"

"Lady Lothíriel" and for some reason the girl dropped her voice "There is also King Eomer… I mean, you can write to him too."

Despite whatever intention the maid had with her suggestion, Lothíriel smiled. In fact, she smiled as she had not smiled in weeks.

This time, she headed to her chambers.


	7. What letters can do for a lonely heart

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

According to the Appendixes of ROTK, Théoden is buried on August 10, 3019. Eowyn and Faramir are wed in 3020, and Eomer and Lothíriel are wed the next year, the last year of the Third Age. In this story, I'll assume that E&F were wed in May, Lothíriel came to Rohan in June, and right now we're in September. That is, Eomer has been King of Rohan for a year. I have a year to make them fall in love and get married, according to canon! Will I make it? Stay tuned!

If you have comments about the timeline, please, your words will be very much appreciated.

I appreciate and thank all reviews!

**THE JEWEL OF DOL AMROTH**

VII

WHAT LETTERS CAN DO FOR A LONELY HEART

Faramir's letter had the most wonderful of news. Eowyn was expecting their first child! Lovely thoughts began to burst out of Lothíriel's mind. She loved babies very much, as Alphros could guarantee, having been given a lot of hugs and kisses and lullabies from his aunt ever since he was born. Babies and books, those were her weaknesses.

Then there were Ceolwyn's words. She had felt lonely these past days, since her father had departed to Minas Tirith and her brothers were on duty. Her mind suddenly traveled to Rohan, to the Golden Hall, to the young king, surrounded by advisors, soldiers and servants… and as lonely as her. How could she have been so selfish? Lothíriel had promised indeed to write, hadn't Eomer asked her to do so? Ceolwyn was so painfully right.

She took a quill and a parchment, and began to write.

* * *

"Another letter to be sent to Dol Amroth?" asked an amused Eothain. "Hild and I are quite intrigued by this suddenly letter exchanging of yours. You never were keen on writing." 

"You're right, dear friend" answered Eomer, smiling and putting out his quill. "However, the writings of lady Lothíriel are so delightful that it is almost impossible not to reply them. Besides, she enjoys my stories. Writing to her is one of the few things I can do in my leisure time. Would you deny me that?"

"Perhaps you write now more for necessity than for leisure." Eothain pointed out.

"Nonsense. It is just a pastime and nothing more."

After the Marshall left his office, Eomer wondered if, after all, his friend was right. From the very moment of Lothíriel's departure he had felt a deep void in his heart, a void with the memory of his lost family. The Golden Hall felt so empty without his uncle and his cousin. Eowyn had promised to visit, but she had a husband to take care of and a house to manage. The lively and smart Princess had filled that void for a while, and now she was gone, perhaps for good.

Then, out of the blue, a letter came. She wrote, as she had promised. Her words were cheerful, her tales amusing, her descriptions of the sea intriguing. Moreover, she wanted to know more about him. Eomer had to recognize that he wrote at least ten drafts before he wrote the definitive reply to the Princess. Yes, he was well and thankful for her letter, the plans for the safety of Aldburg were being executed, how fared the Prince and his eldest sons? And so on.

He had just finished the reply for the fourth letter. He read it carefully for one last time, before sending the letter to the messenger, who would carry it to the hand of Imrahil's daughter.

"… _My heart has longed to see my sister, after the joyful news of her pregnancy. In two weeks I will have an opportunity to travel and visit her and my brother-in-law at their home in Ithilien. And now that your letter tells me you had a similar idea, I will be most pleased to meet you and recall our discussions at Edoras… Do not fret, dear Princess, for we will not have those early meetings again; all that I need is your counsel, as the trusted friend of mine that you have become these pasts months…"_

Was it too forward? In these months, he had begun to consider her a friend, as she considered him. He admired her, respected her opinions, and sought her counsel.

There was something else, thought. She was beautiful, well mannered, and a Princess after all. An idea had appeared in his mind, some weeks ago. Perhaps…

No, no. How could he betray her trust?

* * *

It was afternoon when Eomer and his Royal Guard came to the house of the Prince of Ithilien. It was a beautiful stone building, surrounded by nature, and its frontal gardens gave off a sheer fragrance. His sister was standing at the doorway, in the same fashion as she used to stand at the entrance of the palace of Meduseld, a long time ago in Edoras. Her expression, those days, was of waiting, of resignation, of hidden sorrow. Oh, those days. There was none of those dreadful feelings in her face. Only love for her husband and happiness for the new life she would bring into the world. Faramir was beside her, holding her hand lovingly. 

"Hail, King of the Mark", he said out loud. "Our home is graced with your presence. It has been a long time, brother".

Eomer and Faramir clasped arms and embraced. Eowyn beamed, and threw herself into his brother's arms.

"My dear Eomer!" she said. "Thank Béma you are well-cleaned", she added, giving him a praising look.

"You are the only sister that can welcome a brother with those words" laughed Eomer, as the three entered the house.

After he changed his traveling clothes for some elegant robes, he sat with them in a large room. There was some food in trays, and a maid came to serve tea. Eowyn had taken a liking in growing things, and she told his brother she had planted some herbs in her private gardens, and prepared special blends of tea with them. Faramir told him about his efforts in order to make again of Ithilien the garden of Gondor, and to keep the land free of some orc gangs that were seeking food. It seemed that Ithilien was soon becoming a great place to live, since some of the elves of the former Mirkwood had moved to the land and felt comfortable in it.

While her husband spoke, Eowyn looked at him reverently, her eyes never leaving him. It was such a joy for Eomer to know that finally his sister had a blissful life, away from pain and menaces. Faramir was indeed a good man, and his love had helped her abandon her fears and become confident and more beautiful than she was already.

"Faramir, Eowyn, forgive me for my absence. I could not stop until I finished that book…" said suddenly a soft voice that Eomer knew well. Faramir laughed.

"It is alright, dear cousin, since our guest has just arrived. I'm sure that he will be quite pleased to see you."

Eomer turned around, and his heart missed a beat when he found himself face to face with the Princess of Dol Amroth. She was wearing a simple pink dress, and her wavy hair was only held by a loose ribbon. He remembered well she was not keen on using jewels, and even so, she looked so regal, so elegant, so elven… Béma, she was a glorious sight.

Perhaps he was staring too long, because Lothíriel had a faint blush on her cheeks. The married couple was looking at the pair, quite amused by the exchange.

"My lady", he said at last, bowing and kissing her hand.

"My lord king", she replied, her eyes not leaving his. Eowyn and Faramir both laughed.

"But Eomer, Lothi, you are family now!" Faramir said at last. "No formalities needed, right darling?" He said to Eowyn. Both Lothiriel and Eomer blushed crimson.

"Well" said Lothiriel, with a shy smile. "It is nice to see you, Eomer".

"It is nice to see you too."

But of course, they were family! Was he so absorbed in his duties that he had overlooked that detail? Perhaps she had been wondering when he would stop being so formal and called her by her name. It felt wonderful, thought, to say her name. He had always called her Lothíriel in his heart, whenever he thought of her. And Lothíriel she was for him, since this moment.

* * *

She had been expecting anxiously for him to come, devouring some of Faramir's book to spend the time. However, the moment Lothíriel looked at Eomer, she wished he had not come so early. He looked so gorgeous that she thought she was come to faint of the impression. Her wheat-colored hair was neat and tidy and his beard well trimmed. The moment he had kissed her hand, she had felt those unmistakable tickles she hated to admit she missed. And his eyes bore that characteristic strong look, bold yet sincere, defiant yet amiable, proud yet respectful. No wonder he was a leader of Men. The memory of his eyes had earned him her trust. 

Faramir was right, though. They were cousins by marriage, and she had been always so formal with him. Lothíriel had always thought it was the right thing to do, since he was a king. Even so, she found with surprise that she called him by his name in her mind, while she sewed his robes. The robes… she wondered if he had brought them.

Eowyn's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"I will have you rest today, dear brother, for Faramir and I have prepared for tomorrow a little feast in your honor. Do not worry" she added hastily at the gloomy looks of Eomer "it will be something simple, not like the Gondorian parties Elessar has accustomed us to…"

Her words made Lothíriel laugh a little. She would have loved to stay and talk to Eomer, but her sense of propriety told her it was not right, since they would be alone. Then again, her thoughts were interrupted.

"Perhaps Lothíriel can show you the nearby gardens. Would you, Lothi?" Faramir said.

"I'd love to, cousin" was her answer. She could swear Faramir had winked. What was the matter with him?

* * *

Arm in arm, they were walking through a large greenhouse, next to the building. Both of them where wearing cloaks; Eomer's was green, and Lothíriel's was grey. It was dark, but the moon bathed the land in its light. 

They had talked about everything, mainly politics, their encounter in the Barrowfield, and the upcoming baby. They had laughed, argued, smiled to each other. Lothíriel felt so free like she had never felt in her entire life, and her trust for this man was increasing. And although she had promised to herself not to mention the "heiress" issue on her trip, the idea of telling Eomer about it began to appear in her mind. _No,_ she said to herself. _He can do nothing to help me._

The words escaped from her mouth before she could stop them.

"Eomer, you know I trust you very much… would you keep a secret?"

He looked at her, inquiringly.

"I will not breathe a word, if you ask me not to".

"Very well, then…"

When she told him, she felt like a heavy weigh had been lifted over her heart. She waited eagerly for his next words.

"Lothíriel, I am in a similar problem" Eomer said, his eyes never leaving hers. "You heart desires that Elphir would regain his senses and reclaim his rights. My heart desires to be lonely no more in a palace. If you become the Ruling Princess of Dol Amroth, your husband will be a consort… but you can not rule Dol Amroth if you are queen of another country."

"What country?" said Lothíriel in a barely audible voice.

"The Mark. Rohan" answered Eomer.

And before she could say anything, he added.

"I am asking you, Lothíriel of Dol Amroth, to become Queen of Rohan, and my wife".


	8. Innocent or innosense?

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

_At length they came to the Prince Imrahil, and Legolas looked at him and bowed low; for he saw that here indeed was one who had elven-blood in his veins. 'Hail, lord!' he said. 'It is long since the people of Nimrodel left the woodlands of Lórien, and yet still one may see that not all sailed from Amroth's haven west over water.'_

JRR TOLKIEN, ROTK

Thanks for all the lovely reviews! I'm quite busy but still willing to keep writing this story. I hope you like this chapter. BTW, the title is related to a poem I wrote when I was a little girl…

**THE JEWEL OF DOL AMROTH**

VIII

INNOCENCE OR IN-NO-SENSE?

"I am asking you, Lothíriel of Dol Amroth, to become Queen of Rohan, and my wife".

To become what? It made no sense at all. They were talking about politics, not marriage. Perhaps, Lothíriel thought, she had not heard well.

"I must beg your pardon, my lord, I mean, Eomer" she said. "Either I must have misunderstood your words or they were not clear enough. Could you repeat your question again?"

Eomer raised an eyebrow and seemed suddenly uncomfortable, but still answered:

"I have just asked you to become my wife. I fear that is the clearest way I can imagine for a man to ask for the hand of a woman. Or perhaps there is a way in Dol Amroth of which the people of the Mark have not heard yet?"

Lothíriel could not still understand the question.

"Resigning the rights to the throne of Dol Amroth to become Queen of Rohan does not make much sense to me. If I do what you ask of me, I will be refusing to face the real problem, which is the refusal of my brother to his duty. Moreover, I will be repeating his mistake."

While she spoke, she did not notice the unbelieving look in Eomer's face.

"I really thank you for your offer, but I fear that my problem needs a deeper solution. It is my brother that needs to be changed, not me. But, tell me" and there was mirth in her eyes "why would you care to ask me to become your wife?"

Suddenly Lothíriel looked into Eomer's eyes and found anger and disappointment, and became confused. Why? What had happened? What did she said that made him feel that way?

"A prince once asked me to let her youngest daughter visit my kingdom" was his reply. "I did not know what to expect from her. I had never met a princess, you see. I'm not sure if all princesses are the same, but the woman I met was the most compassionate and clever woman I have ever known. She earned my respect and my friendship. And when she left, I realized she had stolen my heart."

"Many women have I met, Lothíriel. Some of them, I wished they could have been mine, but for many reasons they could not. Some of them broke my heart."

Eomer lifted his eyes and his right hand touched lightly her cheek.

"Now you have become one of them. Good night."

He took the reigns of Firefoot, and waved her to follow him. Their walk was over.

* * *

A tear escaped of Lothíriel's eyes. Then another, and another, and another, and a river of salty water flowed freely over her face. She found that she did not want it to stop. Her cheeks were burning, her heart was aching, and her hearts were trembling. The freshness of her tears would suffocate her cheeks, but what about of her heart? And what about of Eomer's? 

Not for the first time in her life, she wished to turn back the time and change her words. Truly, she had never taught about the matters of the heart. However, are they something to be taught like a subject, like history or mathematics? If she had known, she could have had a better answer for Eomer, a sensible one.

Bloody sense! The river of tears kept running. She did not have a clue about what was going on. She only knew she had broken Eomer's heart. What was the meaning of that? He was sad, she knew that much, but what was she expected to say? To ask forgiveness? To cry? To…

"Why do you cry, Lothi?" It was Eowyn, who had opened the door of Lothíriel's room.

"Because I'm stupid" was her answer. "Because I've just broken someone's heart."

"How come, dear?" said the Princess of Ithilien. "Pray, tell me…"

While she embraced her, Lothíriel told her everything.

"Eomer must really care about you, Lothíriel, to speak to you the way he did. In some ways, he is different from many men you have met. While other soldiers do not slip any chance to find someone to warm their beds, Eomer just sees women as beings that need to be protected. The only woman I have ever known he showed a sign of interest in was Fegel Rochíriel, whom perhaps you have met…"

"I have not" said Lothíriel. "Would you tell me about her?"

"She is the only daughter of Frogast, lord of Aldburg. The old man found them kissing in a stable, about six years ago, and almost beheads my poor brother. Eomer swears until today that they had a bet about who was the best kisser. Anyways…" Eowyn sighed "There are many problems to solve in here. One is Elphir's decision, which I still do not understand, but perhaps Faramir could help us to reason with him. The other is… I fear, Lothi, you are too innocent in many ways."

"I am not innocent, I am blind. So much for my advisor abilities. They aren't helpful at all, since they made me treat the man who loves me as if we were discussing a contract."

The moon shone brightly through the window. Eowyn kissed the top of Lothíriel's head.

"Go to sleep now. Let's see what news brings the morning to us."

* * *

Lothíriel did not see Eomer the entire morning. Eowyn told her that Faramir had took him to the Elven settlement in the deep of Ithilien. Thus, Lothíriel spent the day sewing some blankets with her cousin's wife and reading a book that Queen Arwen had given to her. The women were also discussing names for the baby. 

"I believe that Galadhwen would be a wonderful name for a baby girl born in Ithilien" said Lothíriel.

"Nay, dear sister, my heart tells me the baby is a boy" Eowyn answered, undoing her sewing for the third time. "He will be the pride and joy of his father. Faramir has told me that he would like to name the baby Elboron."

"Elboron? It seems a very interesting choice. Faithful star…"

They had lunch, and Lothíriel was amused as she saw Eowyn devouring a whole bowl with strawberries. Her cousin had mentioned in his letters that his wife had cravings for sour things, not sweets as it was common in women with child, and was eating twice the amount she used to eat before she was pregnant. Anyone could think she had fattened a bit. But apart from her rounded belly, Eowyn looked as svelte as Lothíriel had met her. What a lucky woman, she thought to herself.

The housekeeper came and the women were reminded that there was a feast to prepare. About an hour later, Faramir and Eomer came back. Lothíriel saw only a glimpse of the King of Rohan, who mumbled something about being over exhausted.

"Your brother raced one of the Elven Lords" Faramir told his wife. "And yes, he won. But it seems that a Horse Lord cannot compare himself to a First Born. This one rode so fast that he seemed a Vala to me."

"Is he going to attend the feast?" asked a curious Lothíriel.

"Yes, my dear. His name is Talagan, nephew to the king Thranduil of Eryn Lasgalen."

Lothíriel wondered if Eomer was going to attend it, too. She reminded herself later that the feast was _in honor of_ Eomer. And now what on Middle Earth was she supposed to do?

Eowyn must have sensed her troubled thoughts, because she gave her a reassuring smile and told her to have a bath and get dressed. Right away, three maids hurried Lothíriel past the stairs and took her to her room.

* * *

"What dress shall you wear, my lady?" asked one of the maids. 

Her best dress was, believe it or not, a green one, of a rich velvet and golden embroidery. Fate can be cruel sometimes, Lothíriel thought. Her best dress was of the same colors of the land that the man she had hurt ruled. She would consider herself lucky if it could bring out a smile of Eomer's face.

The maids dressed her, combed her hair and arranged it in loose tresses that would bring out its midnight color. Her only accessories would be the golden pendant Eomer had gifted her and a thin golden headband. And, much to her dismay, the maids insisted on applying some powder to her cheeks and a few touches of Lothíriel's confessed vanity, a Haradric perfume.

She had been to feasts like these, hundreds of times in her short life. However, she had been never to one where she had offended the one to be honored in it. Silently, she prayed to Elbereth to remain graceful, hide her nerves and, perhaps, gain some forgiveness. Carefully, she began to go down the stairs.

Faramir and Eowyn were hand in hand, both on their best clothes. Some steps away from them, Eomer was talking to a man taller than him. When the man turned around, however, she noticed his pointed ears, and realized that he was one of the Elven Lords.

"Lothíriel, there you are at last" Faramir said. He offered his arm and both cousins entered the hall. Where was Faramir leading her? _Not to Eomer_, she pleaded in her mind, _not to him_…

"Lord Talagan, may I present Princess Lothíriel, daughter to Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, and dear cousin of mine."

Lothíriel bowed deeply and when she lifted her eyes, she found herself lost in the eyes of a First Born. To her surprise, the elf bowed too.

"My kin was not mistaken. Elven blood flows deep in your veins as in those of your father, my lady."

She could do nothing more than smile. The elf took his leave and Lothíriel found in the situation she had been dreading all that day, alone with Eomer.

"It is a pleasure to meet you tonight, lady Lothíriel."

Well, at least he was being polite. His stare was cold, so unlike the enthusiastic ones he used to give her whenever he could manage to convince his advisors of any changes in the rules of Rohan. How funny, she had come to like them. Perhaps, with time, she could learn to like all of him.

"The pleasure is mine, my lord king."

Lothíriel desired to speak now to him, but the dances began and the music interrupted her. Her desperate mind started to think until she noticed that Eomer was speaking to her.

"Even thought we had a disagreement last night, and I was very rude to you, I still think we can come to an understanding."

He was rude? No, not at all! She replied, managing not to blush:

"It is me who must ask your forgiveness. It takes little sense of someone to notice when a proposal comes from the heart…"

"Say no more, princess" was his answer. "I believe you owe me a dance?"

A dance! This time, Lothíriel blushed and Eomer could not help grinning.

"Where is Elphir when he is needed?" she said at last. Eomer didn't seem to understand, and she laughed.

"It is my little charade. You see, I'm a terrible dancer. When anyone asks me to dance, Elphir always says I'm tired, and then I retire, and no one notices my lack of dancing skills. He is not here now, and I'm lost and must dance. Therefore I ask forgiveness of you if I stomp on your foot…"

Eomer laughed softly, mirth now in his eyes. Lothíriel felt relieved, he seemed amused by her outburst and, at least, he was in good terms with her now.

"My uncle insisted I had to learn to dance. Eowyn bests me, but I still believe I'm quite good. May I have your hand?"

_Here I am_, Lothíriel thought. _All of my so called elven blood has gone to my head. I must look like a tomato_. _Now, how was it? One two three, one two three…_

Faramir could not suppress a surprised look when he saw Eomer leading her cousin to the dance floor.

"I will lead you, and you only have to follow" Eomer told her. "If you make a mistake, we will continue, no one will notice, trust me…"

The trick is to enjoy the dance, not to be the best in it, he told her. She started to enjoy the rhythm of the music, the smile of Eomer, the scent of Eomer…

* * *

They completed not one, but three dances. 

"This day is historical, indeed" said Faramir. "May I have a dance, Lothíriel? I have wanted to do it for a while…"

Her eyes were bright and her cheeks were flushed. Eomer was so right, so bloody right. He had helped her to overcome one of her fears. Perhaps, after all, he could help her to overcome all of them.

Her fifth and last dance was a lively one from Rohan, which seemed to Lothíriel easier than the Gondorian ones. After it finished, Eomer and her were both out of breath. She was so tired that did not notice when he took her outside the hall, holding her hand.

"Do you forgive me for what I told you yesterday, Lothíriel?" Eomer said.

"I will forgive you and I ask you to forgive me" was her reply.

"I've been thinking…" he said, letting go of her hand. "Perhaps I expected too much from you, that you returned my feelings, and I forgot that this is not a simple thing to do. How can I expect you to love me, if I have never showed a sign that I love you?"

Before Lothíriel could answer, he continued.

"It was rude of me to mention other women; those memories should be buried in my past. If there is something I expect from a woman now, is to be supportive, understanding and caring enough for me and my country. And I find that in _you_, Lothíriel. I just hope that, with time, you may find the things you expect from a man in me."

He lifted his hand, his fingers trembling, until they found her cheek. He caressed it tentatively, and Lothíriel was tempted to close her eyes. The light touch of his hand was truly distracting.

"I really want to conquer your heart." He said at last. "I'm not a man of poetry, like your cousin, but I meant what I'm saying. Would you let me? Would you give me the chance?"

_Go on,_ her heart told her. _Say yes._

"Yes" she said "I will give you the chance, Eomer, and I hope that, with time I will learn to love you."

"I pray for that" he answered, kissing her hand.

* * *

Eowyn and Faramir were enjoying a slow dance, quietly listening to each other's heartbeat. 

"Do you think she has realized it?" Eowyn said "She is too much innocent…"

"That does not worry me. I really hope she has found enough sense to understand what Eomer finds so appealing in her." Was her husband's reply.

"That reminds me of a couple that met once at the Houses of Healing…"


	9. Forgiveness

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Haldir's…, here is the answer to your question.

Some of the scenes in this chapter must seem to have been taken from other fanfics, but I want to assure you guys that it was absolutely necessary for the plot to have such scene in this story. After all, a warrior without strong reflexes would seem very unrealistic.

**THE JEWEL OF DOL AMROTH**

IX

FORGIVENESS

Next morning, after breakfast, Eomer sought Lothíriel out for a ride.

"We could test your statement about your mare being faster than my stallion" he said, smiling. She could not deny her wish for a ride, so they both left the house and went to the nearby fields of Ithilien.

Lothíriel considered herself a skilled rider, and Eomer seemed satisfied by that. She had been taught to ride astride by Elphir when she was very little, and she had never been bothered to ride with a side-saddle since riding was not something she usually did. Of course, a woman riding astride in Gondor was seen as an obscenity, but Lothíriel did not care about the comments.

Falma was faster than Firefoot in the first miles, as she had predicted, but at last the winner was the Rohirric stallion. She felt her heart jump when she saw Eomer, his eyes bright with the look of victory.

"You said there was a prize, my lady" he said, as he helped her to dismount.

"And a prize there is…" she replied, and kissed his cheek. It was a soft kiss, meant to be only a sweet expression of gratitude from a maiden, but Lothíriel dreaded that he would consider her a flirt… However, Eomer's eyes had no price. He looked just like having been given a trunk full of gold. And he was blushing!

After some moments, he seemed to get himself together and invited her to sit for a while, and contemplate the lush forests of Emyn Arnen.

"Have you slept well yesterday?" Lothíriel asked him. Eomer looked somehow tired.

He seemed to hesitate, but answered:

"To be honest, I did not sleep well last night. Your cousin wanted me to stay at the party, after I walked you to your chambers, but I refused. As a matter of fact, I have been thinking about… us… and the circumstances."

"Oh, I see" was all that Lothíriel managed to say.

"Can I lean my head on your lap, Lothíriel?" he asked out of the blue. "I really need some rest."

She pondered his request. It was not entirely appropriate, and it seemed a little forward to her. However, as they were alone and away from the whispering court ladies and lords from Gondor, she allowed Eomer to place his golden head in her lap.

It did not feel uncomfortable; in fact, his head was quite warm and she was able, for the first time, to touch his hair. Lothíriel was amazed at the fascinating blend of colors; some strands of hair were golden, others were light brown, some others were even red. Her caresses seemed to sooth Eomer, as he closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.

Could she learn to love this man? She did not know. What she knew was that she did not want to marry him only to escape from her duty, a duty that had been laid on her shoulders in a very inappropriate way. Lothíriel had decided, the night before, that she would try to reciprocate his feelings, because of her growing affection for him. If she failed, she would return to her home, and focus on her new role of Heiress to Dol Amroth. Having him so close, though, was an excuse to learn more from him.

There was a short scar in his forehead, and his nose was lightly crooked, no wonder because of a punch. His beard tickled her fingers, and she enjoyed playing with it, making some circles around his chin. After all, she was not used to being so close to a male, and she was enjoying her exploration. Her fingers touched accidentally his lips. This was the first time that she ever focused at them. They looked soft and full, and Lothíriel wondered how it would feel being kissed by them… though she had no basis for comparison, since she had never been kissed.

Trying to touch him as lightly as possible, she finally dared to take her fingertip to his lower lip. Before she noticed, there was a massive body on top of her, and a pair of strong hands was around her neck. Eomer's eyes were in flames for a while, and then he got up and walked away from her.

Lothíriel's neck was hurting, but she knew she was to blame because of having forgotten about how warriors react when woken in a sudden way. Her brothers often told her not to disturb them when they were sleeping, because they could not control themselves and could even hurt her. Eomer did not seem to think the same, though.

"It is my fault, Lothíriel. Some part of me still believes we are still at war. With time, perhaps, it might change."

"It would not be very advisable for a warrior to forget his reflexes, I think" she answered, managing a smile.

His hand touched her neck, and his eyes widened when he saw the bruises in it.

"I am deeply sorry… I never expected this to happen…" he murmured.

"And I forgive you, Eomer…" she said, caressing his cheek, the one she had kissed earlier.

His eyes darkened, and Lothíriel began to feel uncomfortable. She dreaded his next words. Why did she feel that way, when she should be flattered, even pleased? Was it not wonderful to be loved? Maybe not, she thought, when you do not love in return.

"I truly thank you for this morning" he said, lifting her chin. She smiled, and he kissed her hand. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss _her_.

To be honest, Lothíriel thought it was better that he had not.

* * *

Eowyn and Faramir were sitting on some couches in a hall, and seemed to be having an interesting conversation, judging by the way each one looked to the other. Eomer was sorry to interrupt it but his question could not wait.

"Faramir, have your cousin Elphir and his father had some sort of… disagreement… ever?"

"That is a very amusing question. May I know why you ask?" the Steward answered.

"It has to do with Lothíriel, actually" Eomer stated.

Eowyn laughed, but was silenced by Faramir's stare.

"I trust you, brother, being you my wife's kin, but what I will tell you must be kept as a secret for the time being. It would not be very wise to betray my family by divulging one of their best hushed quarrels."

Eomer nodded, and let Faramir began to explain.

"Elphir, as you know, is the mightiest warrior of Dol Amroth, and the leader of the Swan Knights. He is renowned as a skilful swordsman and rider and as a strong commander as well. But he is sometimes too much impulsive and does not think of the consequences of his actions.

"My uncle loves him, as he loves all of his children, but their relationship has always had its ups and downs. He was born in a time when my uncle was often out riding with the Knights, dealing with the Corsairs. Thus, he truly began to spend time with him when Erchirion was born, and Elphir was about four or five years old. My cousin was raised first by his mother, and later by the stable hands and sword trainers. He loves his father as well, but will never forget that he never taught him to ride, or to wield a sword.

"They sometimes did not agree about tactical dispositions and attack styles, but there is a quarrel that I will never forget. It happened before my brother regained momentarily Osgiliath…"

Faramir was silent for a while, perhaps thinking about his brother. Then he continued.

"There was a warning of attack to one of the cities of Dol Amroth, but it was not entirely clear. My uncle considered it to be a threat of ambush, but my brother did not agree with him and, against his orders, went to that city. With him went his most trusted men, some of the finest soldiers of Dol Amroth. It turned out that my uncle was right, and each and all of them were slaughtered savagely, save from my cousin, who was rescued barely alive.

"When he recovered, my uncle scolded him so badly that Elphir was not the same again. My uncle himself told me, later, that he repented from doing it even in front of his wife. Lothíriel does not know this, by the way. She was in Lamedon at that time, visiting her mother's kin.

"Last time I saw him, he looked as good-humored as always, but there was some sadness still in his eyes."

Faramir stopped speaking, and Eomer said:

"You have told Eowyn and me a secret, and now I will tell you another. I only hope not to betray the one who told me, but since she trusts you both, perhaps you can help her in a way that I cannot see.

"Elphir has resigned his right to be the next ruler of Dol Amroth in secret, and you uncle has agreed that Lothíriel takes his brother's place as an heiress."

After hearing the full tale, Eowyn gasped and Faramir shook his head.

"He has not yet forgiven himself, then… from what happened." He said at last.

"Lothíriel told me she does not understand why her brother would do such a thing. She feels that Elphir's motives are not entirely clear." Eomer replied.

"We know, Eomer, how you feel about her" Eowyn said, taking his hand. "It was clear for us last night, and we are really happy for you both. I don't know if my opinion can be of help in this matter but I think that it would be better for a man to speak with Elphir, rather that Lothíriel or another woman."

Faramir smiled to him.

"In many things, Elphir and you are very much alike. He will listen to you and reconsider his decision. If you succeed, Lothíriel would be thankful to you all of her life. She loves her eldest brother very much. In fact, they were very close, until he married."

As Eomer took his leave, he added:

"Treat Lothi carefully, brother. She may be still innocent, but she is as canny as any lady of the court of Minas Tirith. Smart women can be both a blessing and a curse."

Eowyn did not waste time and hit him with a pillow, saying: "You have to admit it is more of a blessing!"

Eomer laughed soundly, as his brother-in-law managed to say:

"I… do… admit it! Now let me go!"

Pillow fight had just begun.


	10. Family Heirlooms

AUTHOR'S NOTE: 

I'm sorry for not having updated sooner… This chapter was very difficult to write! When I started the story, I promised to myself I'd try to stick to canon as much as possible. Now, after many days of research, I'm sure that canon-worshipers (and others, too) will be satisfied with my work. I also noticed that there is a mistake in 1st chapter. Eomer's and Eowyn's eyes are grey, not blue. That fact is very important to the story, so the mistake will be corrected soon.  
Another thing: Thanks to Frigg for her idea of Théodred taking Eomer to a brothel when he was sixteen (only that idea). I thought it was perfect and have not modified it, and all the credit goes to her.

**THE JEWEL OF DOL AMROTH**

X

FAMILY HEIRLOOMS

One of the most valuable possessions that Faramir brought from Minas Tirith to Ithilien was his book collection. He enjoyed especially those books concerning the story of the Three Houses of the Edain and the fall of Númenor. He had granted Lothíriel permission to read some of them, and she had asked Eowyn to give her some spare time after lunch.

The princess sat in the Library, trying not to crease her new lavender dress, and began to read a huge volume about Tar-Aldarion, King of Númenor, and his wife Erendis. It was one of her father's favorite tales.

Aldarion was the sixth king of Númenor. He loved his Queen, but his love for the sea was stronger, and often he went sailing for long terms of time; with time, they became estranged. Erendis then returned to their homeland, and raised alone their daughter, Ancalimë, who became the first Ruling Queen. It was said that Ancalimë disliked the notion of marriage, because of the strife that she had seen between her parents. Lothíriel could not imagine what she would do if she ever found herself in Erendis's situation. Suddenly some dreadful thoughts began to surface in her mind.

_She could be in Erendis's situation._ If she accepted Eomer's offer, knowing that she bore no love for him, they would be tied for eternity in a loveless marriage. On the other hand, if she grew to love him, but he spend too much time devoted to his lands and his people, neglecting his duties as a husband… One way or another, her days would be full of sorrow, if she became Queen of Rohan.

Sometimes, Lothíriel felt that her Numenorean blood whispered pessimistic thoughts in her mind, and the Elvish side countered those thoughts. Well, it did not happen all the time, but it was the only explanation she could manage for these sudden annoying ideas. Luckily, her Elvish blood did counter them, because she realized that she did not know Eomer that good to infer what would be his behavior if they married.

Lothíriel was sure that she did want to know him better. The problem was, they resided from distant lands (even thought letters were excellent allies, it was better to interact with someone), he was a King and had a whole nation to manage, and besides, yesterday she had become really scared when Eomer had almost strangled her… Not that he did it on purpose, it was just a reflex, but still… that was scary and the situation had had a negative impact on her determination on getting to know him.

_Best to leave Aldarion and Erendis_, she thought. _It makes me sad._

She took another volume, and the title made her smile. Her father had told her it was one of her mother's favorite books. No wonder, Lothíriel thought.

_"Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth",_ she said out loud. "Just what I need, one of my mother's favorite tales" she added, in Sindarin.

"That is not a tale", a deep male voice said out of nowhere. "It is a dialogue between an elf and a mortal woman."

Eomer came into her sight. He had been absent all day, probably discussing trade agreements with some Ithilien lords. Lothíriel's eyes were fascinated by his clothes, a fine burgundy tunic and a brown vest with golden embroidery. It still amazed her that the Rohirrim had a liking for the color of gold. In Dol Amroth, the finest embroideries had silver details.

"Satisfied with your inspection?" Eomer said, and a furious blush crept into Lothíriel's cheeks.  
"I'm just trying to understand why the color of gold is so important to your people…" she answered, recovering her composure. "Are you sure that Dwarves are not your forefathers?"  
Eomer laughed, and placed himself in a chair, next to the princess.  
"It is gold, because of the sun. The sun and the horse are our symbols as a nation, just as the swans to your knights, my lady"  
"I see" Lothíriel said. "I did not know you were not only versed in Sindarin, but knew some of the stories of old." _It seems you and I have so much to learn from the other_, she added to herself.

"The descendants of Morwen Steelsheen are fluent in Sindarin, or so it is said among the people of Mundburg. Théodred, Eowyn and I learnt this language from a man that you have already met, Eadburg son of Eadwine, Chief Librarian of Edoras. I can assure you, Lothíriel" and he looked straight at her eyes "that had I known that I would have been required, in the future, to have dealings with the people of Gondor, I would have paid much more attention to my lessons, and cursed them less"  
Lothíriel smiled.  
"Whatever you say, you have proved me that you are quite competent in these dealings. Now, what were you saying about the tale?"  
"It is not a tale" Eomer continued "But a dialogue between Andreth, a mortal woman, and Finrod Felagund, who, if I am correct, was king of… oh, the names are so confusing…" He looked funny, his forehead wrinkled because of his efforts to remember. Lothíriel came to his rescue.  
"It is Nargothrond. There is no need for you to remember that, unless you are one of the scholars working at the Library of Minas Tirith. But it is good to know that you are not that illiterate as many of my people think"  
She tried in vain to hold back her laughter, as Eomer made a pout of mock resentment.  
"You hurt me, princess! Your words are sharper than swords"  
They both laughed, until Eomer became serious.

"I have come to… to seek your forgiveness, Lothíriel. What I did yesterday, even tough it was in self defense, was definitively not the way to treat a lady of your status and dear friend of mine. I…" his eyes were set hi his hands now "I promise to control myself and act less like a warrior and more like a lord and a king. Would you accept my apologies"  
She was petrified. It was very considerate of him to come and apologize, but it was also a reminder that _he_ was a warrior and he was a man with enough strength to kill an orc with his very own hands, let alone a petite maiden. Moments ago, she thought that she was speaking to one of the scholars of Minas Tirith. Now, with the realization, came the fear and the weakness. Still, he was a friend, and he deserved her sincerity.

"You really gave me a fright, yesterday" Lothíriel said, trying to appear calm.  
"Yes, I did notice" answered Eomer. He buried his face into his hands, and she looked through the window, as if looking for an answer.  
An awkward silence invaded the room, until Lothíriel said:  
"I do not blame you for what happened. It just made me think that I still know little of you"  
Eomer did not seem to listen, his face still buried into his hands. She could not help to lift her trembling hand and caress his hair. Her touch was light, but she flinched when she noticed that some strands of his hair were damp.

He was weeping silently.

"No, please Eomer, don't cry…" she whispered as she managed to pull him closer and held him into her arms. He put his arms around her, and rested his head on her bosom. Lothíriel was slightly taken aback by the intimacy of their posture, but she did not care if someone came to the room and saw them. Here was a man that was suffering and needed to be comforted.

After some silent moments, Eomer pulled his tousled hair away from his hair and tried to dry his eyes with his sleeve.  
"Take this" said Lothíriel, offering him a white handkerchief. He looked it as he feared to ruin it, so instead she took it and wiped away his tears and rearranged his hair.  
"There" she said finally, and smiled. "You look great now"  
He looked great, indeed, but embarrassed, all the same.

"It is the first time that this happens to me. Weeping in front of a beautiful lady…" he muttered.  
"There is nothing to be sorry of, Eomer. Except from my hard words, I believe. And I am sorry for them"  
He laughed bitterly.  
"We have both apologized to each other this afternoon, but have we accepted the apologies"  
"I do" replied Lothíriel. Eomer just nodded. Then his eyes narrowed a little.  
"I have just ruined your dress"  
"Not at all, I will change for the night and it will be just fine. It will be dry by tomorrow" she answered.

They both stared into each other, and Eomer rose and made a move to leave.  
"I fear that dinner will be ready in no time. Before I leave, would you tell me what were you saying about your mother"  
Lothíriel smiled.  
"The… dialogue is very dear to me, since my mother's name was Andreth, Andreth daughter of Hírvegil and sister of Angbor, lord of Lamedon"  
"Angbor _the Fearless_?" asked Eomer, surprised. He had never imagined a connection between that stern faced man and this sweet faced princess. Then he remembered Faramir's words.  
"The very one, my lord. One day, perhaps, you will hear the story of a man of the sea and a woman of the mountains that joined their lives together"  
"It could be the other way round" he replied, and left.

* * *

He wanted to be out of the library as soon as possible. It had be a most dishonorable act to treat Imrahil's daughter, as friendly as she was, as a common tavern wench, crying his sorrow like a drunk. Just as dishonorable as the incident of the day before. He had expected Eowyn to yell at him after she found out, but when he realized that Lothíriel had told no one about her being almost strangled by him, it dawned on him that he did not deserve not to be punished for such a crime against a woman. He had sought her, then, to ask forgiveness, and then he had lost his self control and wept in her shoulder, ruining her dress and his reputation! Truly, he had to be out of there. 

"Eomer!" a familiar voice exclaimed. It was Lothíriel. Her dress was still damp.  
"Eomer, do you know the way to the small garden on the second floor? The one that looks to the west"  
"I do. It is very close to my rooms. Why do you ask?" he replied, not looking at her.  
"I beg you to meet me at that garden, after Eowyn falls asleep. Would you?" she said.  
"My pardon, but it is not…" Eomer began.  
"Proper, I know" Lothíriel answered "Let us forget the notion of property for today. I won't bite, I promise"  
He doubted. What if anyone found out? However, he knew Lothíriel enough to know that she was a proper lady and, even forgetting the notion of property, as she put it, she would never behave like a tavern wench. He nodded and was rewarded with a smile.

* * *

_What on Middle Earth have you done, Lothíriel?_ She could hear the voice of her aunt Ivriniel, whom she did not see very much, in her head. The old widow deemed herself an authority in good manners and propriety. 

Another voice rang in her head, this time from Amrothos. _You'd better be preparing your wedding after this "encounter" of yours, Lothi,_ he would say, his smile as mischievous as ever.

"Silence, the both of you!" she said to the air of her room.

Dinner had been very quiet. Eowyn had finished the first, wishing to retire early. Faramir had followed her, and had shut himself on his study. It seemed that there were some reports of orc gangs to the south of Ithilien, and the menace worried him. Eomer and Lothíriel had finished their meals, smiled to themselves and went to their respective rooms, waiting for the moment to come.

And now Lothíriel was adjusting her blue dress, the one who had replaced the damp lavender, and brushing her hair for the fifth time. She looked into the mirror and tried to make a sensual gesture with her lips, with the only result of a childish pout. Truly, she was not like those ladies from the Gondorian Court, irresistible for all the men. She wondered if Eomer had succumbed to their charms… she would find out this evening. Because if Lothíriel had a lack in sensuality, she had a surplus in shrewdness. And she would use it tonight.

Eowyn's room went dark, and Lothíriel knew that the time had come.

It was all dark outside, so dark that she had to be careful not to bump into something and alert the rest of the house. When she reached to the garden, she noticed that Eomer was already sitting on one of the stone benches. Lothíriel put a finger to her mouth, and tapped his shoulder lightly.  
"Come, sit with me" Eomer whispered. He was wearing the same tunic, but his hair was well combed. Lothíriel was suddenly disarmed by his smile, and her voice faltered for a moment, but she managed to speak:  
"I thought you were not going to come"  
"If I need to come to a garden in the middle of the night to be forgiven by a lady, I will do it" he stated. Suddenly, his eyes went to her neck.  
"You are wearing it" he said, pointing to the necklace he had given to her, some months ago in Edoras. Lothíriel smiled and, to her displeasure, blushed.  
He seemed to notice, and taking one of her hands, asked her:  
"Would you like to know the story of your necklace?"  
She nodded as an answer. In truth, she seemed to have lost herself for a while into his grey eyes.

"My father was Eomund, Marshall of Aldburg. As a soldier, his fortune was very little in comparison to the King's wealth. When he fell in love with the sister of the King, though, he spent all of his savings in a simple necklace, with a sun and a horse. This was his wedding gift to her, and she wore it with pride, being a token from a man that bore an everlasting love for her. However, she told me once that the necklace also represented the love for the Mark. And that is why I gave it to you"  
His calloused hands caressed her palm, and she shivered lightly.  
"When Eowyn told me that you were so eager to know my country, I knew that the necklace was perfect for you"  
"It was your mother's, then…" Lothíriel whispered "I will treasure it, now that I know its story"  
Eomer's hands were suddenly on her neck, near the brooch of the necklace, to be precise.  
"May I?" he said.  
She did not understand, but, as she turned around, she silently enjoyed his touch, as he undid the necklace and showed to her. Suddenly, she realized that they were very close, her back almost touching his chest. But there was no point of return for them.

"See the runes around the sun? You may not notice, but these are the names of my parents" Eomer murmured. She picked up the jewel and tried to distinguish the names.  
"Lothíriel" he said suddenly. "There is something that makes me curious. Why does your father calls you 'jewel"  
"'The Jewel of Dol Amroth'", he says" answered Lothíriel "It has to do with my mother's nickname. His father called her 'The Jewel of Lamedon', not because of her beauty but because of her sharp mind, that helped to uncover a conspiracy against her future husband. My father believes I am of the same sort"  
"Aye, you have lived up to your name, Lothíriel"  
She turned around to face him, and said "Do you have any nickname, Eomer King?"  
"Not that I know, although I would not be surprised if I found out that my men have come up with any"  
"I know one" she laughed, and Eomer took her both hands.  
"You do? Pray, tell me, so I can punch the one who came up with it" he replied, laughing as well.  
"All right, then. Amrothos calls you 'Elphir's twin'. Not very creative, actually. But he laughs at it as it was the best joke ever"  
"I will not punch him, then, since I believe it is the worst nickname ever" Eomer said, scratching his head. "Could you turn around again? It is the first time that I am so close to your hair and I do not want to waste any second of this chance."

She did as she was told; Eomer began to caress his tresses, in an amazingly gently way, knowing that he was a warrior. As he did, he began to hum a song. Lothíriel could not help looking to the skies, and her smile grew bigger when she noticed the stars. The night as perfect, and she was being pampered. Her ears were soothed by his humming; her eyes were full of the brightness of the stars; in her nose lingered the musky scent of Eomer, and his touch in her hair and her shoulders was relaxing. She had a sudden desire to turn around and tell him she was grateful for this wonderful experience, and she did, only to find herself into Eomer's arms.

Their faces were only inches away, and the closeness made her feel dizzy. She wanted to run and hide from those piercing grey eyes, which attracted her as magnet attracts steel. Eomer seemed to have sensed that, because he closed the distance and pressed his lips against hers.

And in that moment, Lothíriel understood that she had loved him since she had first seen him in the Houses of Healing, almost a year ago.

* * *

He was not experienced in women. Well, he had been with a woman once, when Théodred had taken him to a brothel, many years ago; but, after that, there was little time for him to get acquainted with women, let alone love one. And, besides, loving a woman was too risky in those times of war. 

However, there had been a woman that he could consider in his memories. Her name was Fegel daughter of Fromgast, lord of Aldburg. Fegel Rochíriel, people called her. Besides that weary woman who sold her body for money, Fegel was the only woman that had allowed him to taste her lips, and only because of a bet. Anyways, she had married after he had been appointed Marshall of the Mark, and his husband had died in the Pelennor Fields, leaving her a widow with two small children.

She belonged to the past, indeed. In his present was only this dark haired beauty, named Lothíriel of Dol Amroth, and if he did the right things, she could belong to his future.

It was obvious to him, despite his short experience, that he was the first man to kiss her. After their first kiss, she hid her face in the crook of his neck. He lifted her face, only to find again that blush that often seemed to invade her skin.  
"You took me by surprise" she said, and her childlike voice amused him.  
"I did, dearest, and I can do it again" he replied.  
And without further comment, he kissed her again. This time, he allowed himself to part slightly his lips, feeling the softness of hers, the sweetness of her mouth. It took a lot of effort to him not to surrender to his male desires, well hidden with the worries of war, and scare her with his passion.

When the kiss ended, she smiled timidly. He kissed her forehead.  
"We have lingered here too long, Lothíriel. Next time we can meet at daylight, but not this way. It is not proper"  
"It is not, right. But it has been very pleasant" she answered.  
He pressed her small hand into his chest, where his heart was leaping.  
"More than pleasant, I deem. This is what you make me feel, dearest one, and with your help, I can make you feel this way also"  
As an answer, she brushed his lips with hers softly, and left.  
_She is a quick learner,_ Eomer thought, humming that song again and walking to his room. _Truly a jewel…_


	11. The noblest lady in all the Mark

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

To my readers: I hope all of you have spent a joyous Christmas and I wish you a Happy New Year 2006.

This character (Fegel) has been annoying me for some weeks, and now she has a chapter for herself. With a little of Eomer in it, of course.

**THE JEWEL OF DOL AMROTH**

XI

THE NOBLEST LADY IN ALL THE MARK

"Would you help me, Fegel? I am tired, and my children need to be fed."

"Of course, mistress Hild. What do you want me to do?"

"I need you to keep an eye on those to boys who are cleaning the tapestries. Once they finish, be sure that they put them back without damaging them."

The Housekeeper of the Hall seemed tired, indeed. The king would arrive in a couple of days, and had ordered her to prepare a feast to celebrate the news of Eowyn's pregnancy. Many people of all over the Mark had arrived to this feast, including Fegel and Fromgast of Alburg, her father.

She had refused to come to Edoras since the very moment she learned of Eomer being the new king. She dreaded the possibilities. All these years spent within his father's household had taught her that power can make an instrument of a man. And she did not want that fate for her.

"Fegel Rochíriel" said a voice. It was mistress Annis, the second housekeeper in charge. "I have always wondered why you bear such a name."

"My mother took me to her land, Gondor, when I was a babe" Fegel answered "The people of her city called me Rochíriel, Daughter of a Horse Lord. Even she began to call me thus. But I am every bit the Rohirrim, mistress."

"And the noblest lady in all the Riddermark, it is said" Annis replied, in a low voice. "After lady Eowyn's departure, of course. You could be as well the next Queen of the Mark."

Fegel shook her head, and some of her golden curls fell out of place.

"I am still mourning, mistress Annis. The soil that covers my husband's grave is still fresh. But I appreciate your good wishes."

Her heart had been relieved when she found out that Eomer was visiting his sister in Ithilien. They had been always very close, Eomer and Eowyn. Fegel did not remember much of the sister of the king, except from her grey eyes and skill with the blade. And the furious look Eowyn had given her, the one time that Fegel won her in a competition. She laughed at the memory; to think that she, Fegel, used to be a shield maiden! Now, she was just "the noblest lady in all the Riddermark", as Annis had put it.

If she found out that every person in Edoras wished her to fill the empty throne of the Queen of the Mark, she would ran away in no time. Being daughter of a lord was annoying enough.

However, she thought, becoming Eomer's wife was not an unpleasant thought. They befriended shortly after he first came to Aldburg. He was a boy then, with sixteen years and bright grey eyes, very tall for his age. Fegel, a year older, treated him like a baby brother, and laughed at his naivety. A year and some months later, she had wanted to play with him, as always, and challenged to kiss her. She never imagined they would end up in the stables, surrounded by lots of straw, locking lips, until Fromgast arrived and threatened to kill him.

Her father had told her... Actually, he had _ordered_ her to wait outside the meetings room. Fromgast was a little bossy these days.

The door opened, finally, and one of the councilors came to greet her.

"Well met, lady Fegel" he said "My lord Eomer will be here in three more days. You will have a unique opportunity to meet him and get acquainted, and if Béma favors us, in a week we could have a betrothal ceremony."

"I fear I don't understand, my lord" replied Feger. Her hands began to shake when she heard the answer.

"It is alright, my lady. Since the King has still not decided to find a wife and produce an heir, the nobles of the Mark have decided altogether to find her ourselves. And, despite your widow condition, there is no one better than you to be the next Queen of the Mark."

Fegel opened her mouth to protest, but her father silenced her.

"She is a well bred lady, distant relative of the King, with blood of the Eorlingas as well of the Gondorians. Fegel is strong and will give many sons and daughters to the King. What else Eomer can desire?"

It was highly offensive to be treated like a horse ready to be sold, and even more if the one who treated you thus was your own father. However, she had to keep her composure.

"A Gondorian lady, perhaps?" said Gamling, the chief adviser of the King, who had just came out of the meetings room.

"You mean the princess of Dol Amroth?" Fromgast said mockingly "She seems pretty, she may be smart, but she is not one of us. That girl, I think, is too fragile to bear children of the House of Eorl."

"Eomer seemed quite taken with her" Gamling answered.

"Still", replied Fromgast "he _will_ prefer a lady of his people."

Fegel desired to leave the hall as soon as possible. The very air suffocated her. Besides, all those men seemed to have forgotten her. They should be ashamed of being discussing Eomer's marriage, as if he was a horse in need of a mare! Nevertheless, curiosity won her and she stayed.

If she was to stay in Edoras, Fegel thought, she would need an entertainment, at least until Eomer returned. Perhaps it would be interesting to find out who this princess of Dol Amroth was, and if Eomer was really taken with her.

* * *

After having lunch with Hild and Annis, Fegel retired to her rooms. They were located in the east side of the castle, and she felt that they were… how to put it… too "regal" for her taste. She preferred her humble house in Aldburg, where the only decorations were some ancient tapestries and wooden doors decorated with horse motives.

There was one thing, though, that caught her attention. It seemed that the last occupant of the room had forgotten the most peculiar piece of jewelry she had ever seen. It was a silver brooch decorated with some tiny crystals, shaped like a goose. Who would want a goose shaped brooch? Gooses were for eating, she thought, not for decorating…

In that moment, the door opened and a maid came, carrying some bed clothes.

"Ósle" Feger addressed the woman, smiling sweetly "Take a look to this brooch. Do you have any idea to whom it could belong to? To one of lord Eomer's girlfriends, maybe?"

The maid seemed to recognize it, and gave a little jump before answering:

"I'm sure it belongs to the princess Lothíriel, my lady. She might have forgotten it when she left, some months ago."

One of the things that Fegel had learned in Aldburg was to be a good listener. To not just listen to the words, but the intonation and the stress in the speaker's voice. These things were highly revealing. In this case, he maid's voice revealed that she was very fond of this princess Lothíriel.

"I think, dear Ósle, that it would please the princess if we delivered her the brooch to her home. Do you agree?"

The girl hesitated a little, and then nodded.

"She was a very kind lady, my lady, and I'm sure that she would be more than pleased."

"Well" Fegel answered "I will write to her and send her the brooch, but first I need you to tell me as much as you can about her. Otherwise I will not be able to write her. Do you have time?"

Ósle smiled, and began telling her about the princess.

* * *

Two days later, Fegel still could not bring herself to write that letter. Perhaps it would be better to wait until Eomer came back from Gondor. She was sitting in some stairs that led to one of the indoor gardens, attempting to braid some strands of her hair.

"My lady Fegel..." a voice said. It was Elfhelm. Of course she knew him, her father held this man in high esteem. She rose quickly and greeted him.

"Good day to you, Marshall Elfhelm. How can I help you?"

"Mistress Annis has sent for you, my lady, and begs you to go to your rooms. Eomer King and the Royal Guard have been seen near the outskirts of Edoras and will be here in no time."

Fegel froze. _This is it,_ she thought. _We will face each other and see if there is something stored in the future for us._

"Thank you, my lord. I will be there shortly." she said simply.

Ósle and Annis were waiting for her. Without listening to Fegel's words of protest, the women bathed her, washed and combed her wavy golden her. When they chose a light green dress, however, Fegel's temper rose.

"I'm a widow of war, not a blushing maiden, and will be presented to the King thus. Therefore I will dress in black!" she stated.

"Lady Fegel, if you please, be reasonable" mistress Annis said. "You do not want to disappoint the court by dressing such, when we are supposed to celebrate the end of the War and the joy of the news of lady Eowyn's pregnancy."

"Mistress Annis is right, my lady..." the maid added.

Finally, Fegel gave up, and allowed the women to dress her as they wanted. Meanwhile, her thoughts flew to another time, another place...

"_I can have any woman in the Mark, if I want to. Any!"_

"_Do you think so, Eomer son of Eomund? Women are not an easy prey for men. Alright, I dare you to kiss me!"_

"_What? That is not fair! You are almost like a sister! I cannot kiss my own sister!"_

"_You coward! Are you afraid of me?"_

She looked herself into the mirror for the last time. Her golden head was surrounded by a thin circlet, her only piece of jewelry. The infamous green dress was beautiful, she hated to admit it, and brought out her blue eyes. She had wore it only once, in a feast in Aldburg. That day, she had met Grimbold, her late husband.

She may have not loved him, but Grimbold was a good man. Her father had always wanted to arrange a marriage for her. At first, he thought of Elfhelm, but at the end he decided on Grimbold. They married a a year before the War of the Ring. She had bore him twin children, but they died shortly after their birth. Soon after their death, she was told that her husband had fell in Mundburg.

After having lost her husband and her children, Fegel thought, any woman would be overjoyed to know that there was a chance for her to be none other than the wife of a king. She thought that doing that was insulting to their memories. Truly, she had not loved Grimbold as she had loved their children, but, after all, he had always been a good man to her.

* * *

"Are you well, my daughter? You seem unwell..." Fromgast said to her.

"I am fine, father" she replied, accepting his arm. They were standing at the top of the stairs leading to the Golden Hall of Meduseld, along with other councilors and the Marshalls of the Mark.

Moments later, a group of Riders came into view, and crossed the walls of Edoras.

"Hail, Eomer King!" exclaimed a guard, as a broad shouldered man went off his horse. Immediately, two stable boys came to help him and took the horse to the stables.

Fegel's stomach ached with expectation.

After some of the men greeted him, Eomer noticed Fromgast.

"Well met, my King. Here I present you my daughter, Fegel, who has rode with me all the way from Aldburg to meet you." the man said.

Eomer's eyes flickered with recognition, and he smiled as Fegel bowed to him.

"My lord Eomer" she said.

"You are not Fegel Rochíriel" he said, with mirth in his eyes "Fegel Rochíriel would have never bowed to a soldier."

"I never bow to a soldier, indeed. But I have no choice, if the soldier is a king" she replied, smiling.

He seemed to ponder her answer, and bowed to her as well.

"It is an honor to welcome you to Edoras, lady Fegel of Aldburg."

She sighed with relief. His eyes showed nothing more than the memories of friendship. At least, for now, she was safe.


	12. Partings and Plans

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

In case you were wondering, I am not dead! This story will not be left unfinished! I've just been busy, with college and everything. I'll try to update sooner, folks. I will really try.

A little summary, in case you don't remember what the story was about (chapters I to XI): Lothíriel traveled to Rohan to help Eomer with some political issues, they became kind of close and even liked each other; Elphir resigns his birthright and Lothíriel becomes heiress to Dol Amroth; she and Eomer become more close while staying at Ithilien, and meanwhile in Rohan, Eomer's counselors have chosen Fegel, a local noblewoman, to be presented as Eomer's future bride… (Gee, you were not supposed to know that…)

On to the story, then!

**THE JEWEL OF DOL AMROTH**

XII

PARTINGS AND PLANS

Four days had passed since Eomer had come to Ithilien. On the fifth, a messenger had arrived from Edoras, bringing along a letter from Fromgast of Aldburg.

"Gather the men" he said to the captain of his guard. "We leave in the morn".

His eyes searched for Lothíriel, in order to gave her an explanation, but she was nowhere to be found.

* * *

As Eomer made his way to the stables, a familiar sound of footsteps reached his ears. It was his cousin in law. 

"Eomer, we need to talk before you leave. Lothíriel is most unhappy with this sudden change of plans and, as her cousin, my duty is to be sure that she does not feel miserable" Faramir said.

"What do you want me to do?" replied Eomer dryly. "I would stay with her and figure out a solution for our dilemma, but my duty relies with my people, and you are as aware as I am that orc gangs are still threatening my lands. As a ruler, I cannot choose to postpone the needs of my people to satisfy my own needs. I hoped and expected that Lothíriel would understand that."

"She does" replied Faramir. "However, she does not now what is to become of her… of your relationship".

Eomer had asked to himself the same question last night, what was going to become of them? They had crossed a line, definitively, since that night at the garden. It would be hard to remain friends, after those and other delightful moments spent in each other's company. Thinking about it, Lothíriel's reaction was not at all unreasonable. She was to become Imrahil's heiress and the next ruler of Dol Amroth, and an unreachable woman for him to marry. A union for the king of the Mark and the ruling princess of Dol Amroth had as much chance to happen as his uncle coming to life again. If he wanted to have her as his queen, he needed to change Imrahil's mind and deal with the main obstacle for him earning Lothíriel's hand in marriage…

"Elphir" pronounced Faramir.

"Do you read minds, like Lady Galadriel?" asked Eomer

"Not like her, but yes, I can read your face. You are thinking about how to deal with Elphir".

Eomer started to pace up and down.

"How to deal with his decision, mostly. You recommended me to talk to the man".

"And I still do, brother" replied the Steward.

"I will, then" sighed Eomer. "But not until some problems in my land are fully solved".

Faramir nodded, and started to leave the stables, but halted in a sudden way.

"You will speak to her, won't you?"

"With her and with your wife" answered the king of the Mark.

* * *

He did not have to seek her. When he came to the stables again, later, he found the princess of Dol Amroth patting Firefoot softly. Before he could say something, she turned around. 

"Promise you will return for me" she whispered pleadingly.

Eomer caressed her silky hair, while pulling her into a warm embrace.

"I promise you that, and I promise you more" Eomer said. "I promise you, dearest one, that by the summer of the next year to come, you will be sitting by my side, at the Golden Hall, and you will by Queen of the Riddermark, and queen of my heart as well".

She smiled, and touched his bearded cheek.

"Do you have a plan, my lord king?"

"I think I have one" Eomer replied.

"Good" Lothíriel answered, as she was pulled again into his embrace.

_

* * *

I will not allow you to kiss me tonight,_ she had said. _Not until you have fulfilled your promise._ He had no idea he would be kissing her sooner than he expected. 

All that he knew is that he had some sort of plan. There was already a parchment, signed by him but still not approved by the Counsel, which contained a request of aid to Gondor. It was no secret that famine was slowly invading many villages, and on the other hand, Gondor had had a surplus in the latest harvest. The signing of that parchment by Elessar was a valuable opportunity to forge an excuse to visit Dol Amroth, and speak to Elphir and convince him to change his mind. Perhaps, with some luck, he would return to Edoras with the grand announcement that a Gondorian princess was to become Queen of the Mark. The people would love her; the counselors already did.

Or perhaps not. As he climbed the wide stairs of Meduseld, he spotted a familiar face among the noblemen. _Fegel Rochíriel, what a coincidence_, he said to himself. _The very woman that used to haunt my dreams in the past. And her father is with her. No, this cannot be a coincidence. I will be polite with her, though. _

After greeting her and the rest of people, Eomer went straight to his room. He really needed to rest.

* * *

For some strange reason, Fegel was placed at his right during the feast. She did not speak much, and for that Eomer was grateful. After some hours, thought, she spoke something barely audible.

"Excuse me, lady Fegel, I did not understand you" he said softly.

"I said, would you walk with me for a moment, my lord king?"

A walk would be just fine, he thought. Fegel had been always like a sister for him. That was until…

* * *

The couple started to walk towards a small garden. She did not place her hand on his arm, as most unmarried women did when a man, and especially an unmarried man, and most specifically, an unmarried king, decided to walk with them. When he looked at her again, he noticed for the first time that Fegel had changed quite a lot. Gone was the girl with the bright smile and stunning blue eyes; the woman in front of him was soft eyed and had a serious expression. 

"I have heard about your princess, my lord, and I'd really like you to have her sit next to your throne".

He was not prepared to hear that.

"How on…" he wanted to say, but Fegel was quicker.

"My eyes and ears are very sharp, as you should probably know by now. Now tell me, do you really care about her or not?"

"Béma's balls, Fegel, are you threatening me?" growled Eomer. He really did not like to be cornered by a woman.

"I am, for my happiness depends of your answer" she said, in a menacing tone.

"What if I say that what I felt for you is nothing compared for what I feel for her?" replied him, his temper rising. "Why have you come in the first place, Fegel? To tell me that, now that Grimbold is gone, you are now free and willing to take me as your husband?"

She turned away to him.

"If you believe that, Eomer _King_, then you are no more worthy of holding the crown than my own father. Yes, my father, he is the one who brought me here and broke the promise of never seeing you again. I tried to warn you, do not say I told you so!"

And she left the garden.

Eomer wanted to follow her, but thought better of it. _Do not waste your time on her,_ he told himself, _there is much work to do. Tomorrow will be a fine day._


End file.
